


Interludes

by shandyall



Series: The Symphony Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shandyall/pseuds/shandyall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has spent most of his life feeling like the only thing people notice about him is that he stutters. He’s working hard to overcome his (mostly self created) roadblocks when he meets Kurt in an online class the summer after his freshman year of college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure where this came from, but in part I blame the kiss scene in Original Song. There’s something about the way Blaine works so hard to find the right words that made me want to write a whole AU. Everything I know about speech pathology/therapy and stuttering I learned on the internet and a book I read in high school. Please forgive any inaccuracies.

  
Kurt is in the basement of the English building when he hears a familiar tune. He knows there’s a piano down here, but he’s never heard anyone play it before. He follows the tune down a hall and comes to the room that contains the piano. He peers through the window and  isn’t surprised to see a dark, curly haired head. Before he can think better of it, he opens the door.

“Blaine?” he says, with a question in his voice. He’s worried how the other boy is going to react. Technically they don’t know each other, but Kurt’s been putting together the pieces and they all just fell into place.

The other boy stands up so fast he knocks over the piano bench with a clatter. When he turns around, Kurt can tell he scared him out of a deep reverie. But he couldn’t pass up the moment. 

“Hi,” Kurt feels ridiculous, but he’s going to push through. “I’m Kurt.”

“From online?” Kurt continues, feeling stupid. “From class online, I mean. I just, I wanted to say hi. I guess. I’m sorry to bother you.” Blaine just blinks at him, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Kurt thinks he’s made a terrible mistake.

He’s turning away when Blaine finally makes a noise, deep in his throat like he’s trying to clear a lump the size of a grapefruit.

“H-h-how ddddid you know?” Blaine asks, eyes trained to the far corner of the room. 

“I actually wasn’t sure until I just heard someone playing that song and then saw it was you. That’s the tuna salad song, right?”

Blaine actually snorts a quick laugh at this and flicks his eyes towards Kurt. But all too quickly he frowns.

“I ddddddidn’t w-want you to know. To know that I ssstuttered. I w-w...” Kurt can see Blaine’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to get these words out, to explain to Kurt what happened, why everything seemed to go wrong, just when Kurt thought things were starting to get good. Blaine lets out a long, slow breath and starts again.

“I knew... I-I-I knew that when I mmmmm-et you, I wouldn’t be able to tttalk. That all mmmmm-my words would get stuck. Blah-blah-ocked.” Blaine is blushing furiously now and Kurt can see the slightest shake to his hands. “Blocked,” Blaine repeats quietly. 

Kurt is surprised that Blaine stutters, but it doesn’t change how he felt about him, how he feels about him. It makes sense though, why Blaine seemed to reject all of Kurt’s ideas to meet up or to talk on the phone or Skype, why he was always so wordless when they encountered each other before the summer.

Kurt takes a step towards Blaine and reaches out to put a gentle hand on his shoulder, in hopes that Blaine will look up at him. He pulls away when Blaine tenses up at his touch, not wanting to make the other boy more uncomfortable than he already is. 

Kurt wants Blaine to uncurl and unclench and look up and see Kurt standing before him. Blaine runs his hands through his hair and closes his eyes tightly for a few seconds. But then he does look at Kurt, right into Kurt’s eyes.

“Sorry,” Blaine mumbles, “I didn’t mean...”

Kurt waits for him to finish, but instead Blaine shakes his head and gestures to his mouth. Kurt wants to tell him that it’s ok, he doesn’t mind, but he’s sure that almost anything he says along the lines of “I don’t mind” will be met with disbelief. But he needs to say something and he needs to say it in a way that doesn’t convey pity or discomfort. And he needs to say it in a way that makes Blaine believe that it really doesn’t matter to Kurt.

“I won’t think of them as blocks, Blaine. I’ll think of them as … interludes.”


	2. Chapter 1

From the beginning, Blaine was well liked by his teachers. But the comments on even his very first kindergarten progress report laid out his issues:

“Blaine is very well behaved. He follows directions well and is able to print all of his letters and numbers. His fine motor skills are beyond those of many boys his age. I am concerned because of his near refusal to speak to me or the other children. Our speech therapist says he’s making some gains on his impediment, but he very rarely says anything in the classroom unless heavily prompted.”

Blaine couldn’t help it. His stutter started pretty much from when he learned to talk.  His mom and dad were nice to him about it, usually. Other times he could tell it annoyed them, but mostly it was ok, because they figured he would grow out of it, like his dad did when he was a kid. Sometimes Cooper would be mean to him about it, but sometimes he would act like he didn’t even notice.

The kids in his neighborhood mostly ignored him. Not that Blaine wanted to talk to them, but sometimes it got boring riding your bike by yourself. When they did talk to him, it was usually just to make fun him, call him “Blah” (which was the noise he made when he stuttered on his name). He knew they thought he was stupid or retarded or whatever, but he didn’t need to be friends with them anyway.

His parents sent him to a private speech pathologist, along with the speech therapist at school. His speech pathologist helped him with different techniques. She taught him to soften his stutter and to roll into words that he knew he would stutter on. She told him to try not to live his life avoiding words. He didn’t think it mattered because he just wanted to make it through the day.

As he got older, the comments on his report cards continued the same way. “Blaine is well-behaved, obviously intelligent, but reluctant to speak.” Some teachers made a point of it, saying he was laconic and taciturn, stopping just short of calling him rude or petulant. Mostly though he was lucky when it came to teachers, the majority of them were compassionate, letting him give oral reports privately after school, or allowing him to write essays instead of participating in class. There were always a few that would never bend the rules. Those classes were the worst.

He would try to talk fast, just to get it over with. He would write his speeches around words that he always blocked on. It never really worked. His face would heat up, and he would hear his classmates tittering at all the things he was saying wrong. His hands would shake and then his voice would crack and he would usually just make it through the speech before tears would form in his eyes.

During middle school, his speech pathologist had suggested to his parents that maybe Blaine needed a regular therapist. After some discussion, Blaine’s parents agreed. Blaine could talk in therapy. He still stuttered, but not as much. He never felt judged. He could just be Blaine. And his therapist, Paula, would laugh at his jokes or tell him she was proud of him. Blaine relished these little things, even if they embarrassed him.

Paula would give him assignments to work on. Usually it was stuff like say something to his parents during dinner. It didn’t have to be anything important, just something that happened during the day. Other times it was harder, like answer a question in class. He would always at least try. Because sometimes he knew the answer and he wanted so much to just say it and have the teacher smile at him.

Paula encouraged him to join an online support group. He was completely opposed to going to one in person, but the online one worked for him. He was actually a really good writer and when he had the chance to express himself through written word, it felt right. He felt a little of the burden lift every time he would join in the discussion.

Things slightly improved in high school. Unfortunately cruel children have long memories and anytime people were feeling mean they would call him “Blah.” He would try to laugh it off, because that always seemed to confuse bullies. But it still made him sad. He would get pushed into the bank of lockers and the guys would all start saying “Blah! Blah!” He wound up crying in a bathroom stall several times during the first few weeks of high school.

On the plus side, he had a minor growth spurt and joined the cross-country team. He became friendly with the guys on the team and sat with them at lunch. He mostly got away with nods and shrugs and smiles and one-word answers, all the avoidance techniques that his speech pathologist frowned upon. They didn’t seem to mind him hanging around and he never heard them make fun of his stutter. He could travel as part of a group and there was safety in numbers.

He found joy in music. He started taking piano lessons in fourth grade (it was recommended that he find a creative outlet) and he taught himself the guitar the summer after his freshman year of high school. He could sing without stuttering and that made it a safe haven. He could spend hours playing songs and making up lyrics and writing music.

Blaine found places in his life where things were better than ok, better than just fine. On the miles of cross country trails, in his room with the music blasting, at the lunch table listening to other guys chat idly, escaping into a book, talking to Paula or playing the piano in his sun drenched living room. These were the places he could be Blaine.

He still stuttered all through high school, leaving him a mostly quiet person. He wasn’t going to be like his dad, he wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones that just grew out of it. It did get better, or maybe Blaine got better at dealing with it, but it definitely didn’t go away. It would always manifest at the very worst times. 

If his dad was mad at him for not cleaning his room, Blaine would try to apologize or make an excuse and nothing would come out. And then his dad would be frustrated.  Usually he would just yell at Blaine, but sometimes he would hit him, push him or smack his shoulder. His dad never hurt him or left a bruise on him. Blaine knew his dad couldn’t help it, just like Blaine couldn’t help his stutter. His dad would always apologize afterward and tell him to work harder. “I know you can get past this Blaine. I know because I got past it. You just have to try harder.” 

Blaine, for all intents and purposes, was fine and that’s all he really wanted. He got along with his parents, usually, he could rely on Cooper, mostly, and his friends on cross-country accepted him. Thanks to Paula he could almost always talk when he absolutely needed to and he had an online support system. He really did love to run and he loved music even more.

Thanks to all these things, and his desperate need to fly low under the radar, Blaine made it through high school in one piece. He graduated with a nearly perfect GPA, glowing recommendations from his most compassionate teachers and just enough extracurricular activities to give him great options when it came to choosing a college. He was tempted to stay home, commute to a local school, because that would be safe. No roommates to meet or new towns to navigate.

But on the other hand, he could start fresh. He has no delusions that he could be a completely new man, but he thinks maybe away from his parents and the kids who have taunted him all these years, that maybe he could finally be Blaine all the time. He could be Blaine outside of running and music.

When Blaine gets accepted to NYU he knows with every fiber of his being that it’s the place for him. For the first time in his life, he feels ready to be himself.


	3. Chapter 2

  
On the day Blaine leaves for New York, Cooper, who has come by to see Blaine off, pulls him aside just as Blaine is making his way to the kitchen for a breakfast he doesn’t think he can eat. 

"I wrote you a letter," Cooper says.

"A l-l-letter?" Blaine asks in wonder.

"Yeah, I have some stuff I wanted to say to you, and I wanted to make sure you listened. And I wanted to make sure you would remember it."

"I would have l-l-l-l-l… if you, um, said it." Blaine thinks of all the words he’s let die out and fade away in his life. So many words left unsaid and lingering.

"Sometimes Blaine, people aren’t ready to hear the truth. I think you’re ready now."

Blaine is terrified. He immediately thinks of the terrible or mean or derisive things Cooper could say to him in a letter. What if Cooper was just using the letter to say every mean thing he’s thought about Blaine for his whole life?

"Don’t look so scared. I just had some brotherly advice for you, so I wrote it down. That’s all."

Blaine decides to save the letter for the plane.

He continues on to the kitchen, where his father sits reading the paper. His father is old school like that, reading the financial pages, probably planning investments. Blaine understands that his father cares, but somehow that’s very different than believing it.

When Blaine sits at the table, his father nods at him. They don’t say anything during breakfast and Blaine is relieved because that means he won’t make his father angry or frustrated on his last morning home.

When it comes time for Blaine to leave for the airport, his father stands. Blaine can’t quite meet his eye.

“Blaine, I want you to know that I’ve placed some more funds into your checking account. You should be fine for money for the semester. Should you need more, email me or call and we’ll try to work something out. I know this might not be... an easy day for you and I hope it goes well.”

Blaine lets out a long slow breath and says thank you. His father then pulls him into a hug and Blaine can’t help but smile into his father’s shoulder.

“Be a good boy- ...man. Be a good man, Blaine.” And with that his father heads upstairs, while Blaine stands with his mouth agape.

~~~~~

Sitting next to his mother on the plane, Blaine tries to soothe himself with a comic book. It doesn’t seem to be working. His mother is engrossed in a magazine, so he decides to pull out Cooper’s letter.

__ Blaine-  
I know I’ve given you a hard time over the years, but that was just brotherly love, I swear. I never meant to be cruel or hurtful or mocking, even though I think you interpreted it that way. I guess I thought I was toughening you up, but that’s dumb, because I’m pretty sure you already are tough. 

Here are some things that I should have been saying to you for the past 18 years, instead of what I was saying.

You are kind, funny and smart.

You are your own man.

I think you’re so brave to be going to school in New York.

I know this is something we never talk about. I know it’s something Mom and Dad don’t talk to you about, but it needs to be said: You’re more than the way you speak.

This is the harshest thing I’m going to say in this letter, but it needs to be said. People have more to worry about than the way you sound. Don’t get so down on yourself for stuttering, no one thinks about it except you. Maybe they feel bad for you because they can tell how bad you feel. No one will pity you if you don’t pity yourself. I wish I had figured out a way to say this to you when you were younger and for that, I’m sorry.

Anyone that makes fun of you or doesn’t let you finish isn’t worth your time. Try to have fun in New York. Make friends. Even when you’re scared, try to smile at people. A smile goes a long way Blaine.

Be yourself.

Call me if you need me.

And if anyone is mean to you, screw ‘em.

Love- Coop  
~~~~~

The second Blaine can, he shoots Cooper a text message.

“Thank you, Cooper.”

A minute later his phone buzzes.

“Don’t let the haters get you down B.”

Blaine barks out a laugh and almost doesn’t care when his fellow passengers look at him strangely.  

He takes his brother’s advice to heart. It doesn’t make him a completely different person. He’ll never be a big chatter or a particularly loud person. Even if he didn’t stutter, he’d probably be on the reserved side. But he’s going to try his damnedest to have an actual college experience. He’s going to work hard not to hide behind his stutter and his shyness, to make friends and to be Blaine for once in his short life.

He knows that the first obstacle to everything he wants is saying his name. It always comes down to that when meeting new people, he makes a terrible first impression. There’s always an awkward pause when people ask him his name or at the moment when he should introduce himself. He always worries that people assume he forgets his name.  
  
He and Paula had spent a lot of their sessions over the summer coming up with techniques to help him with his name issues. He never wants to be Blah again, so he’s worked on focusing on the “b” instead of the “bl.” He rarely gets through it without a block, but it’s a quieter buzz of a block rather than an explosive “blah” sound. So many people take saying their own name for granted.

He’s thinking about all this as he and his mom make their way to baggage claim and out into the pickup area. Blaine was relieved that his mom had decided to join him on this trip. He was so nervous, it helped that right how he could be more passive and let her handle the hard stuff, like hailing a cab and instructing the driver.

“You doing ok, bud?” she asks as they sit in traffic.

Blaine wants to just nod, but that’s no way to start this adventure he’s chosen. That’s what the old Blaine would have done. College Blaine needs to be ready to talk.

“I, I’ve bbbeen b—better,” Blaine usually avoids b-words like the plague, but he’s trying to confront them head on. It’s sort of a superstition he’s developed. As if maybe allowing himself to stutter on hundreds of other b-words maybe he’ll be able to say his name when the time comes.

For the first time he can remember since being a little boy crossing the street, his mom takes his hand and gives it a solid squeeze.

“You chose this Blaine,” she says, not in a scolding way, but in a way to remind him, ”own your choice. You don’t have to be here, and no one will think any less of you if it doesn’t work out. I don’t know what Cooper said in his letter, but I want to say that you need to try.”

This time Blaine does let himself just nod, because he really doesn’t trust his voice. He can’t even meet his mother’s eyes. He tries so much all the time. He tries everyday and somehow his mother never sees. All of his trying is never enough. Maybe someday he’ll tell her, but not today. He needs to save his words for other people today. 

“Take it day by day,” his mom continues, “and then week by week. I know you can do this Blaine. And I’m very proud of you.”

His head whips up in surprise. He didn’t expect her to conclude with that. He’s not sure his mom has ever said those words to him and they act like a salve on his soul. He smiles then, right at her, looking her in the eye, realizing that he’s going to do this. That he can do this. His mom knows he can. In a day full of surprises, his mother’s words might be the best one.

Of course, things don’t ever really go perfectly. When they arrive at his dorm the first person they run into his is resident adviser. Blaine is all set to introduce himself, to get past that first obstacle. And his mom totally steals his thunder.

“This is Blaine,” she says, turning toward him with a smile, as if Blaine should be excited that his mom thinks he can’t speak for himself.

He just sighs and smiles, when what he really wants to say is “What the hell Mother?? Why would you take my moment?” But of course the nervous loser side of his brain is totally relieved that he can put off the name torture.

His RA’s name is Chrissy and she seems nice enough, though definitely harried at the moment. She directs him to his room and she’s on to the next task at hand.

He and his mother make his way to his dorm room amid the hustle and bustle of students and parents. She helps him settle in a bit, making his bed, hanging up clothes. There will be a box delivered in the next few days with more of his belongings, but for now he just has what they could take on the plane, a few suitcases and his guitar. Blaine doesn’t mind, he doesn’t really need much to get by.

His mother leaves to check into her hotel and “freshen up,” leaving Blaine to rearrange his drawers and to decide where to store his suitcases. He props his guitar case in the corner for now, thinking he’s going to need a stand. His mom will be back later to take him for dinner and say goodbye, maybe they could do some quick shopping too. 

Blaine is roused from his thoughts when there’s a commotion in the doorway. A tall, lean, brown haired boy enters, followed by not just a mother and a father, but a small entourage of other brown haired children. It’s a ruckus. Blaine is terrified of ruckuses in general.  He shrinks in on himself for a moment before he remembers he’s going to try. He pulls himself up to his full height and smiles.

“Hey, what’s up man? I’m Matt,” says Blaine’s apparent roommate. “I’m gonna guess you’re Blaine?” What is this magic? Why is everyone taking this away from him? Again, Blaine wishes that his first feeling isn’t relief, but it is. 

“Yeah, that’s mmm-me,” Blaine responds, sheepishly.

“Awesome. Uh, this is my family. I don’t know why they’re so noisy right now,” Matt’s grinning at his entourage that has already started taking over the room. Blaine immediately notices the guitar case slung over Matt’s back and it puts him at ease. Matt’s family starts the usual round of hand shaking and introductions and Blaine is actually feeling ok.

He’s stumbling, blocking a bit, but no one seems to be paying much attention to it. He knows his face is red, but it feels more like he’s glowing, rather than embarrassed. It feels like a blush of happiness rather than humiliation. It’s new and Blaine likes it.

~~~~~

Much later that night, after dinner and saying goodbye to his mom, after a hall meeting where Chrissy the RA laid out the plans for tomorrow, after hanging out with Matt and a few other people from their dorm, Blaine is tucked into his new bed. He’s tucked in between new sheets and he’s thinking of all the things that surprised him today, including himself. He’s never thought much about how people perceive him, he only assumed that people didn’t care, or wouldn’t like him, or couldn’t be bothered to listen to him. 

When he woke up this morning, he never would have imagined that Cooper would call him brave, that his father would give him a hug or that his mother would say she’s proud of him. But that all happened today. He knew he was going to have to deal with blocks and the embarrassment of talking to new people, but he never would have guessed that it wouldn’t terrible. That it wouldn’t be impossible. He smiles to himself in the dark. Tomorrow is going to be even better.


	4. Chapter 3

Blaine uses his guitar as a shield for the first few weeks of college. When he’s uncomfortable in a social situation in the dorm, he’ll go get his guitar and play quietly. It gives him something to do with his hands and somewhere to look besides people’s eyes. He doesn’t sing or anything but just sort of plays and listens to people.

People actually seem to like it. People seem to actually like Blaine. He’s shocked as he finds out that simply by being roommates with Matt he’s making friends.  Although more shocking is that it seems like Blaine is making friends even when Matt’s not around.

He and Matt jam together in their room a lot. They bond pretty quickly over their love of music. They both have a quirky affinity for singing about what they’re doing at the time. So they make up songs about the other kids in their dorm or the English paper they should be writing. They have a whole song worked out about this tuna salad sandwich that lives in their mini-fridge and how even though it’s old and kind of smelly, it’s in a fairly loving relationship with the pack of batteries that also lives in the fridge. It’s a ballad, written in B flat minor, or what Matt calls “Blaine’s favorite chord.”

“Every time you write a song, it sounds like a fucking funeral dirge, man,” Matt says to him one day.

“I like sssad songs. And of, of, of course the tuna sssalad is sssad. It s-s-smells like ass and it doesn’t have any f-friends,” Blaine says, falling into their usual banter. But he still avoids b-words when he can help it.

“But it is in a loving relationship with the batteries,” Matt responds.

“It is, but ssss-sometimes love just ain’t enough,” Blaine exclaims while strumming the chords to the Patty Smyth song. This then turns into a song about the bottle of vodka that Matt has in the freezer, because that’s how these things happen with Matt and Blaine.

Blaine’s never had a friend like Matt. He almost doesn’t understand it at first. Making up inside jokes and laughing and talking and not worrying about his stutter. Blaine actually told Matt about his fear of saying his first name and Matt doesn’t act like it’s weird in the least.

After his confession, whenever Matt’s around for introductions, he’ll give Blaine a glance and if Blaine shakes his head, Matt will introduce him. Sometimes he’ll make a name up and Blaine has to jump in and correct him, but by that point he’s laughing so much that no one notices if he stutters or not.

He’s shocked by how much Matt seems to like him. Matt always makes sure Blaine is included, he always asks him to go along to dinner, and he makes a point of hanging out with Blaine even outside of their room.

During the first couple of months, Blaine worries that Matt thinks he’s a charity case. It’s not until late October that Blaine realizes that Matt is a much better person than he ever could have guessed. It was late, or early depending on how you looked at it. Though somehow during college everyone becomes mildly nocturnal it seems.

"Blaine?" came the sound of Matt's voice from across the room.

"Yeah?"

"I want to ask you something and I don't want you to get mad or anything."

"Ok," Blaine was suddenly too nervous to say much more.

"Are you gay?"

Blaine's not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. He's taken aback, but he knows the answer and has for a while. He just spent so much of his life dealing with other shit that who he was attracted to was never really an issue. In high school sometimes he was attracted to girls and sometimes he was attracted to guys, lately it’s been mostly guys. But because his voice always leaves him high and dry when he needs it the most, he doesn't have any misconceptions about being in a relationship, at least not right now. As soon as he realizes he likes someone, his jaws clamp together.

"You don't have to tell me," Matt is saying as Blaine tunes back into the conversation and out of the deep recesses of his mind.

"No, no," Blaine shakes his head in the dark, knowing Matt can't see it. "It's nnnnnot that I don't w-w-want to tell you. I-I just never tttttold anyone." And then quietly, almost reverently, Blaine says "Yes."

A whoop comes from the other side of the room.

"Thank God! That means that even though Jillian is all up on your junk all the time I still have a chance with her."

Blaine sits up and looks over at Matt who is actually fist pumping in his bed.

"Ssseriously? You're not freaked out?" Blaine asks.

"Seriously, man. It's not a big deal. I have a gay uncle. A guncle, if you will."

The conversation meanders from there. There's something about the darkness and a kind ear that makes Blaine want to talk. So he does, with Matt interjecting and laughing and being Matt. Somewhere along the line they both finally fall asleep as the sun is rising, but it's one of the best conversations Blaine has ever had with anyone in his whole life.

~~~~~

When Matt first approaches him with the idea of playing open mic nights, Blaine flat out refuses. He can’t imagine performing in front of people.

“Listen B, (he’s not sure when Matt started calling him B, but he likes it. It reminds him of Cooper.) I know you’re like shy and nervous or whatever, but you wouldn’t even have to talk. You could just play the guitar. It would be so much more fun this way, we sound so damn good. Just think about it?”

And Blaine does think about it. Because Matt is his friend and his roommate and they do get a ton of compliments when the play together. But he’s so nervous about the whole idea. There’s so many ways that things could fall apart for Blaine when he’s in front of a crowd. So many ways that Blaine could fall apart in front of a crowd.

Blaine relents to Matt’s idea of open mic nights after just a few days. He’s scared as hell of being in front of any type of crowd, but he’ll have his guitar and Matt there. Matt says he’s played a couple coffee houses before and Blaine won’t have to say a word, if he doesn’t want to. Matt does apparently want him to harmonize and sing back up, which Blaine doesn’t really mind. Because he loves music and he loves singing and he loves his roommate. Matt does so much for Blaine, that Blaine knows he can’t actually say no to this request.

The first night they play at a little coffee house a few blocks from their dorm, Blaine is a bundle of nerves. November is settling in on the city, with the days just barely warm and the nights downright cold. It’s a relief to get inside after their short walk and Blaine thinks that he’d love a nice warm coffee. He observes the scene though, while he and Matt store their gear.

Blaine doesn’t order coffee anywhere they ask for a name. It’s too much pressure for just a drink. It’s one of the few things that he lets himself off the hook for when it comes to his stutter these days.  There are plenty of places to get coffee that don’t require you to give a name and those are the places that Blaine frequents. Sadly, this is not one of those stutter-friendly coffee joints.

As he’s thinking all this, a boy walks through the door, a boy too pretty to be called handsome, too tall to be called elfin, even though there’s something ethereal about him.  He looks around the tables and his glance falls on Blaine. Blaine leans down over his guitar, pretending to tune it, rather than look this beautiful boy in the eye.

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

Kurt had been running around like an asshole all day and he hates being an asshole. It was completely his fault. He left his apartment just before noon and forgot his wallet, when he got back to his apartment he realized that he locked himself out. He banged on the door waiting for Rachel to get out of bed (at the crack of noon) to let him in and then he remembered that she was working. This meant he had to run down to the coffee place and get her key and so on and so forth, his day just continued to suck from there.

After several classes and a really annoying meeting with his advisor, Kurt was back at the same coffee place he’d retrieved Rachel’s keys from 9 hours earlier. He just wanted to get a latte and slump in a chair and zone out for a while.

He looked around as he walked through the door, hoping that no one he knew was there, because really he just needed this time for himself. As he glanced towards the back of the shop, he saw the assistant manager setting up open mic night. “This is good,” Kurt thought to himself, “I can get behind listening to the acoustic styling’s of random strangers, as long as they don’t suck.”

He caught sight then of a boy about his age with short curly, dark brown hair. He couldn’t tell what color eyes he had because the second the boy caught sight of Kurt he averted his gaze to his guitar. Again Kurt just hoped that he didn’t suck.

The manager announced that the music would begin in a few minutes. Another boy took the stage, introduced himself as Matt and then turned to the curly haired boy. Kurt saw now that the boy had hazel eyes, quiet eyes that didn’t seem to want to focus on much of anything at the moment. He shook his head quickly at Matt. Matt grinned at him and then said to the crowd, “and this is my buddy, B-flat.” The other boy couldn’t contain a laugh after Matt said that. Kurt liked them already.

They started playing right after that, mostly top 40 stuff, some classic rock. They were almost exactly what Kurt needed after the day he had. They were soothing and not too loud and just seemed really into the music. Near the end of their set they played a silly, yet somehow plaintive, song about tuna salad. Kurt hated to admit it, but he just knew it was going to be stuck in his head for the next three days.

Kurt bumps into the curly haired boy coming out of the men’s room after the set ends. Kurt smiles at him and tells him that he really liked their music, particularly the tuna ballad. The other boy just blushes and nods and flees the tiny corridor. Cute ass, Kurt thinks as he watches him retreat.

~~~~~

Blaine’s hands tremble through the first two songs, making him feel like he’s not to going to be able to do this. But once he finds his groove and starts singing and stops thinking about the people looking at him, he’s happy. Like really, really, adrenaline rush happy.

At the very end of their set, when Matt starts playing the opening of the tuna salad song, Blaine isn’t sure whether to punch him or laugh. He decides to just go with it and is surprised when he hears chuckles from the 20 or so people in the audience.  As the song winds down, Matt thanks the people watching for their time and they start to put away their gear.

Matt offers to buy Blaine a coffee, by this point realizing why Blaine hadn’t gotten one in the first place. Blaine really could use a drink, so Matt goes to put in their order and Blaine runs to the bathroom to splash some water on his flushed face. He takes a quick glance around the shop and notices that the gorgeous boy from earlier is slumped in a chair, reading a magazine. Blaine thinks if he were a different kind of guy, he’d go over to him and say … something. Something witty, but that’s not in the cards for him tonight.

Blaine is coming out of the bathroom when suddenly this tall, beautiful figure is right in front of him. Saying … words to him? He liked the songs? The tuna ballad? This makes no sense. Blaine knows he should thank him and say words too, but what words? There are no words for this moment! So instead he blushes and nods and runs away, terrified. But he can’t help but smile to himself (He should have smiled at the gorgeous boy. Next time, he promises himself, thinking of Cooper’s letter. He’ll smile next time.) and feel the warmth spread through him of being attracted to a guy.

He finds Matt and ushers him out of the shop into a blustery November chill, where he tells him about his terrifying encounter and his shiny, brand new crush.


	5. Chapter 4

  
Matt and Blaine continue playing at the little coffee shop near campus. Every other week, they play a set and actually seem to be garnering some fans. It’s mostly kids from the dorm, but it seems like some of the other customers like it. Even the baristas seem to enjoy them. One in particular, a girl named Rachel, has made no secret of complimenting them and flirting with Matt after they play.

Matt nags at him to do a solo, saying Blaine sounds so good, he should just do it and get it over with. One evening one of the other musicians has a keyboard with them and Blaine finds himself asking to borrow it. He’s been working on a song recently and he just can’t hold it in any longer.

And he plays the hell out of that song. He plays it like he means it, he plays it like his dad can hear him in Ohio. He plays it like he’s never played anything else in his life. The prelude pours out of his fingers and by the time the first verse starts Blaine is wailing on that keyboard.

He comes to his favorite lyrics, “Give a moment or two to the angry young man, with his foot in his mouth and his heart in his hand,” when he sees the gorgeous boy out of the corner of his eye and plays even harder. That face is the only one he can see in the audience. In a sea of faces, that’s the only one he wants to look at. And if Blaine can’t talk to him, he can sing his soul for him.

Blaine can always sing.

~~~~~  
A moment of Kurt

His intense, into the music face is adorable.

I don’t have enough Billy Joel on my iPod.

~~~~~

When Blaine finishes playing, Matt is staring at him, wide eyed, with his mouth hanging open.

“Where the hell have you been hiding that?” Matt exclaims.

“I-I practice sometimes on a piano in the bah-bah-basement of the English bbbuilding. After my l-l-l-late class,” Blaine says, feeling stupid now.

“That was like really... intense. Do you maybe wanna talk? About your anger? Maybe?” Matt almost seems meek in that moment, like he’s afraid of Blaine. Was the song really that intense? He poured a lot into it, but he didn’t think anyone would really notice that.

Blaine starts to laugh and can’t stop. And that only makes Matt look more uncomfortable.

Anger is usually the last thing he feels. Sometimes he feels hopeless, or doubtful or disappointed in himself and the world, but he doesn’t usually feel angry. It’s not the anger in the song that he relates to, it’s the other emotions. The isolation and the stubborn pride, that feeling of not wanting anyone to see you, but also feeling tired of being ignored. He thinks he could tell Matt all of that, and maybe he will, but not here.

His laughter dies down and he deflates a bit, now that the rush is over.

“I, I’m never really angry. It’s m-m-more than just a sssssong to me, but I’m n-not hulking out or s-something.”

Matt seems relieved as they pack up their guitars.

Blaine looks around for The Face, as he’s taken to calling him, and is sad to see that he left, momentarily worrying that he scared him off.

“D-do you think you he n-n-noticed mmmme tonight?” Blaine asks Matt on the way back to the dorm.

“I think everybody noticed you tonight Blaine, but especially him.”

~~~~~

Life goes on.

The semester comes to a close and Blaine heads to Ohio for holidays. He spends a few quiet weeks there, playing the piano and letting his mind drift to New York. Making plans for songs he can play, now that he’s not afraid of solos.

He goes back to school and falls into the same old pattern with Matt. Hanging out, playing at the coffee shop, keeping his eyes open for the Face, trying not to worry too much about stuttering, going to class in between everything else.

They drink more that semester, experimenting, testing limits. Blaine loves how free he feels from his voice when he’s drunk. It’s like stuttering is just a terrible dream when he’s toasty warm from alcohol. He hates the hangovers and the headaches that follow, so he learns to tread lightly. But alcohol opens him up far enough to experience a first kiss with a guy he meets at a party. Nothing else comes of it, but Blaine feels better and somehow more relaxed about his sexuality now that he’s actually acted on it.

He and Matt go to more parties and meet more people and Blaine makes more friends, or at least acquaintances. He never quite lets anyone else in the way he let Matt in. He’s not sure if he’s ready to have a ton of friends. He’s happy with his one quality friend and a bunch of acquaintances to talk to in the dining hall and sit next to in class.

Blaine is happy.

~~~~~

Blaine’s out for a run on a sunny Saturday in February. Up one block, down the next, just enjoying the cold wind on his face and the game of chase he’s playing with the late afternoon sun. He spots a familiar figure crossing a street ahead. Blaine can’t even imagine that it’s the boy, but the hair, the designer shades, the lilting walk, all indicate that it just might be... and it is. Blaine slows his run, taking in the boy from afar while he can’t be seen.

The wind gusts at that moment, blowing some sheets of paper out of the boy’s open bag. Blaine doubles his speed to go help. He feels foolish in his favorite red running hat and horribly mismatched sweats, but he can’t just pass this by. He grabs the papers that flew in his direction and approaches the boy with them.

The Face is scrabbling around, catching as many pages as he can, when he looks up and sees Blaine. Blaine grabs the papers that are furthest away from the boy and when it seems like they’ve gotten everything, Blaine tentatively moves a little closer.

Blaine’s mind is racing. He should say something, he could say something. He’ll never make an impression, good or bad, on anyone if he can’t just suck it up and speak. The Face looks up at him and smiles.

Blaine smiles back, it’s the least, and also the most, he can do right now.

Words lodge in his throat just looking in those eyes.

“Ugh, thank you. That could have sucked. I need to remember to zip my bag on days like this,” the Face is saying. “I have all these stupid print outs from this God-awful group project and … You don’t want to hear about that. So, yeah.”

The Face is looking at him expectantly.

Blaine just looks back at him and nods and shrugs. He hopes that the shrug conveys something along the lines “Oh yeah, I hear ya. Group projects man, aren’t they worst? Also wind! Terrible!”

“Well, thank you again, kind though silent stranger,” the Face says.

Blaine tosses off a mock salute and finds himself fleeing the scene. He can feel that he’s running awkwardly, he can’t find his rhythm, like his body knows he shouldn’t be running from this opportunity. As he turns the corner, he glances behind him to see that the other boy is watching him retreat.

~~~~~  
A moment of Kurt

Good Lord what a cute ass.

~~~~~

One of the last nights of the school year, he and Matt play at the little coffee shop for the last time until they return in the fall. Blaine prays that the Face will be there  tonight. He’s prepared a song just for him. Matt knows the plan, which is basically just to play the song when and if the Face shows up. Just a little something from Blaine to his unnamed crush.

Mid-set the boy arrives. Blaine hears Rachel say his name. He strains to hear what she says over the rush in his own head and the song that he’s currently playing. Kirk? Dirk? Curt? Kirby? Kirby doesn’t suit that kid in the least, Blaine thinks.

As they finish the current song, Matt gives him a nod and Blaine transitions right into the next song. “Sometimes I feel so happy, sometimes I feel so sad,” Blaine begins singing. The lyrics aren’t entirely appropriate for the situation (neither of them is married or so he hopes), but he wants the pale blue eyes part to hit home with the Face.

And the Face looks up.

And Blaine looks into those eyes for as long as he can. This is his moment and this is what he can do.

If I could make the world as pure and strange as what I see,  
I'd put you in the mirror,  
I put in front of me.  
I put in front of me.  
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.  
Linger on, your pale blue eyes.

When they’re done playing, he thinks (hopes, wishes) that maybe the Face is moving towards him. Blaine’s back is turned to the room, yet he senses someone looking at him. He gives a quick glance over his shoulder and the Face is being dragged out the door by Rachel the barista, but his eyes are trained on Blaine. Blaine’s heart drops to the ground, but he smiles and waves. Because that’s something else he can do.

The Face tosses off a mock salute.

~~~~~

A Moment of Kurt

Damn that boy can sing.

Damn that Rachel for dragging me away from Silent Stranger just as I was about to corner him and force him to have a conversation with me finally.


	6. Chapter 5

  
Right as winter started fading into spring, the option came around to stay on campus for the summer. Blaine considers staying, mostly because he has trouble fathoming spending 3 months in Ohio. But when Matt decides to go back to Pittsburgh, summer in New York sounds almost as lonely and tedious as summer in Ohio. Blaine has made other friends besides Matt, but he still has a tendency to use Matt like security blanket.

In the end Blaine decides to go home. He figures he’ll pick up a job somewhere, maybe take a class online. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of an online class. He won’t have to speak, he can write all of his answers and he’ll get in some extra credits.

Matt and Blaine say their goodbyes on a dreary Thursday afternoon in May. Matt’s parents are driving Blaine to the airport and then setting off on the long drive across Pennsylvania. There are promises to hang out and text and Blaine knows that it’ll happen. They’ve already bought tickets to go to a concert in Akron the last week in June.

His first few days back in his parent’s house are almost torture. Blaine has apparently forgotten how to be the Blaine his parents know and there’s a sort of dissonance between who he’s become at college and whom his parents expect to see at the dinner table every night.  His mother tsks over how long Blaine has let his hair grow and his father only speaks to remind him to get a job.

And he does find a job, a job that he’s actually interested in, working as a counselor at a day camp. It’s a good fit for Blaine, he rarely stutters around kids. He’s actually been toying with the idea of becoming a teacher, not a middle or high school teacher, but maybe an elementary school music teacher.  Or maybe teaching kindergarten would be kind of cool.

Blaine is pleased, proud even, to admit that his stutter doesn’t always stop him from doing things anymore. He knows it’s there and it’s not something he’s thrilled about, but he’s satisfied with his progress.  He regrets never talking to the Face even though he had the opportunity, but all is not lost. There’s always next year. Hopefully.

Blaine talks to his parents about wanting to see Paula during the summer. His mother seems hesitant about it, telling him that she really doesn’t think he needs “that” anymore and his father just grunts as usual.

Blaine explains that part of why he wants to see her is because he’s doing so well. He doesn’t want to lose the confidence or momentum that he’s gained at college. He worries that being in this environment might make him regress. He says all this with only one minor block. His parent’s seem fairly impressed with the whole demonstration and he makes an appointment with Paula for the next day.

The other reason why he wants to see Paula is because he knows he’s going to have to officially come out to his parents. He’s going to have to tell them that he’s gay and he knows he’s going to need Paula to help him with that, to support him and give him some ideas of how to even broach the topic with them. He knows it won’t be easy, but he needs to be honest with them. And he really wants to do it this summer, face to face.

It seems as though he’s ready for these long months in Ohio. He has a job, an online class and appointments with Paula. He doesn’t have any friends, but that’s ok, he’ll read a lot of books and see a lot of movies and visit Cooper whenever he can.

~~~~~

After dinner every night, Blaine’s father retires to the living room. As a kid, Blaine was terrified of this time of night, but at 19 he just thinks that it’s so fucking cliche he could scream. What year does his father think it is? What gives him the right to just wander away from the dinner his wife prepared and stick her with the clean up? His dad has this warped sense that they’re the Cleaver’s or something. And that man in the living room is no Ward Cleaver.

Although to be fair, his mom isn’t exactly June. 

One of his first nights home, Blaine helps his mom clear the table and fill the dishwasher. He’s lonely and doesn’t know what to do with himself right now. It seems he’s forgotten how to entertain himself after just nine months of having a life outside of his bedroom.

“Oh, you don’t have to do all this Blaine. You can go relax,” his mom says to him almost immediately.

“N-no, I wwwant to help,” he feels suddenly bashful. He wants to divulge something to his mom, but he still isn’t very sure of himself around her. At least, he’s not sure of himself in the same way he’s been feeling at college. “I, I think I de-decided on a mmmajor.”

His mom quirks an eyebrow over to him. “Oh yeah,” she responds with a smile. A smile, so warm that Blaine is immediately happy that he brought this up.

“I, I think I www-want to be a t-teacher,” he’s looking just to her left, not right at her, but he can tell her warm smile fades just a bit.

“Blaine, you know I think you’ve been making remarkable progress, but do you really think you could get up everyday in front of a class and … speak?”

Blaine can feel the blush rise in his cheeks. He knows she’s just being realistic, he knows it, but he can’t help but take it to heart. The idea that she doesn’t support him, the idea that she doesn’t believe in him, it stings.

“I www-want to teach k-kindergarten or mmmaybe music. I like k-kids, I don’t stutter as much around them,” he’s suddenly feeling defiant. He wants her to take him seriously. He keeps his chin up, he’s not giving in on this. 

“I’m sorry Blaine, I’m not being negative or pessimistic just to rain on your parade. I just worry so much about you. And you seem like you’re doing so well, I just don’t want you to become frustrated, or...” His mom is just shaking her head, whether at herself or at him, Blaine isn’t entirely sure.

“I-I-I really wwwant this, Mom. And I’m ggggoing to n-need your help. With D-d-d-duh-duh-dah-dad. He’s not going to like it,” Blaine continues, trying to forgive himself the major block on the word dad. Trying and failing though, because he knows he’s just fulfilling his mother’s limited expectations of him.

She chuckles briefly. “I can hear him already, talking about pink collar careers and his dreams that you were going to be a lawyer. You know what Blaine? We’ll do this. You can do this.” She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks Mom,” and suddenly Blaine feels like maybe he can. 

He wonders what changed her mind.

~~~~~

A moment from Blaine’s mom

I’ve never seen him like that. So sure of himself. One second, blushing and unable to look me in the eye and the next telling me, stating unquestioningly, that this is what he wants. And I don’t think he’s ever asked for my help before. Not quite like this at least. 

I wish lots of things for Blaine, but my biggest wish, the one I guard in my deepest heart, is that someday he’ll tap into that confidence he just displayed, the confidence that usually only comes out in small glimpses and tiny glimmers, and learn how to feel that way all the time.

I just don’t think that’s too much to want for your child.

~~~~~

His job at summer camp doesn’t start until mid-June, but his online class starts just a couple of weeks after he gets home. It’s a contemporary American lit class with a really popular professor. Blaine’s pretty surprised he even got into it because it’s a fairly coveted course. The professor is known for a certain amount of whimsy in her reading lists and assignments, but Blaine is prepared for it.

The syllabus and reading list look completely doable, the class is broken up into essays, papers and online discussion participation and he’s already read a couple of these books.  A Prayer for Owen Meany might actually be one of his favorite books of all time, he read it twice last summer because when he got to the end, he was compelled to go back to the beginning.

There are already some surprisingly good discussions that emerge within the first 24 hours. The first book is  The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime . This is one of those novels that brought Blaine’s compassion right to the surface. Christopher’s issues with his father, his inability to communicate effectively, it really struck a chord with Blaine. Blaine knows he has nothing so severe as autism, that a stutter really can’t even compare, but it does give him a certain empathy for people who have to deal with life differently.

The discussion when Blaine logs on is routed in the why and how of when Christopher punches the police officer. It seems like everyone is taking a bit of stand on the fact that he wasn’t going to learn anything by getting off with just a warning. His classmates seem unsure if he really understood what he did wrong. That maybe Christopher needed to get a better understanding of the consequences behind his actions. 

There’s another faction of the class that seems to believe that he didn’t deserve any type of punishment because Christopher’s “handicapped and didn’t know what he was doing.” Blaine dives into the discussion.

B.Anderson @ 10:58 am  
“I think Christopher knew exactly what he was doing. I think when pressed into a situation where you don’t know how to act, that’s when instinct truly takes over. His instinct was someone touches him, he’s not going to take it. It’s not a proper way to deal with things, but it doesn’t mean that his disability kept him from knowing or understanding what he was doing. He acted on instinct, but it wasn’t thoughtless.”

Blaine sends that into the discussion board and feels a little nervous. He’s not one to be contrary, but something about the uppity-ness of his classmates made him want to pull for the underdog, to show them the world from another angle.

Blaine wanders off to eat a bowl of cereal and watch The Price is Right. No reason to angst over something he can’t take back now.

When he does return to his computer later on in the day, he has quite a few email alerts about the discussion and also a personal email, from a “k.hummel@nyu.edu.” Blaine wracks his brain for a K. Hummel but can’t think of anyone. Not anyone from the dorm or from his classes. His brainstorming lasts about 13 seconds before he’s overtaken with curiosity and opens the message.

~~~~~  
A moment of Kurt

How are there no sane people in this lit class? 

What are you even talking about? 

I’m going to throw this computer out the window if you don’t STFU “D.Marshall.”

Hold the phone, there seems to be one sane person in the mix. Well hello there, “B.Anderson.” You ballsy little devil.

I think it’s time to shoot you an email.


	7. Chapter 6

 

 

  
To: B.Anderson6@nyu.edu  
From: K.Hummel@nyu.edu  
Date: Thurs, May 29, 2013 2:37pm  
Subject: I hope I’m not overstepping

Hello B.(Bruce? Brianna? Bobby? Bethany?)Anderson,  
I’m in your Lit class and I just wanted to tell you that I was really impressed with what you said today in the group discussion. I would never have had the courage to step into that fray and say something as levelheadeded as you did.

I’m thinking if you’re going to be levelheaded and I aspire to be levelheaded, then perhaps we should team up.

I think you gave a voice to something they just weren’t seeing.

So I thank you and so does my 13 year old cousin with autism.

-K.(Kurt)Hummel

~~~~~

To: K.Hummel@nyu.edu  
From: B.Anderson6@nyu.edu  
Date: Fri, May 30, 2013 11:46 pm  
Subject: RE: I hope I’m not overstepping

Kurt- I hate to admit it, I tried to write back to this email about 20 times between yesterday and today. I wanted to say something more than just thanks. But I decided that thanks might be enough.

I’m not sure how levelheaded I always am. There’s a Buffy the Vampire Slayer quote in there somewhere, I just can’t remember it. But now I’m worried I’m letting my dork flag fly a little too high.

Team Levelheadedness for the win,  
B for Blaine

PS I’m going to regret not deleting that stuff about Buffy in 3, 2, 1...

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Sun, June 1, 2013 1:17 pm  
Subject: RE:I hope I’m not overstepping

Dear B for Blaine-

“And I happen to think mine is the level head, and yours is the one things would roll off of.”

Oh Willow, you’re so wonderful. We’ll have to get t-shirts made up for our team and that will be our motto. And Willow can be our mascot. Except for when she’s vein-y and trying to destroy the world. Obviously.

The crazies seemed to have calmed down over there for now. I’m just glad they didn’t start throwing things due to your logic. Although there’s this one girl (D.Marshall) who seems to think that Christopher actually did kill the dog. WTF. Did she read the book? Couldn’t you at least google the end before making yourself look like an ass, D.Marshall? There’s a little thing called Wikipedia.

I apologize for my snarkiness, but usually I would share my comments with whoever was sitting next to me. I’ve decided that you sit next to me in cyberspace.

Please don’t judge me,  
Kurt

~~~~~

To: Kurt, From: Blaine  
Date: Sun, June 1, 7:52 pm  
Subject: RE:I hope I’m not overstepping

I have never been so relieved to have Buffy quoted to me before in my entire life.

I think they’re getting over the levelheadedness. Although I’m just lucky no one wanted to get into the definition of instinct. They could probably make a pretty decent argument that instinct and thoughtless can be mostly synonymous.

D.Marshall’s rant about train stations smelling like hobos is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read. And by funny, I mean sad. It’s like she’s really taking to heart the average amount of posting we’re supposed to be doing on a daily basis and just writes whatever ridiculous shit flies into her head. I have no idea how people are keeping a straight face and intelligently responding to her.

Hence why I’ve been keeping a low profile over there. I hit my posting requirements in the fallout of my “levelheaded post.” I’m just excited that we’re moving onto  A Prayer for Owen Meany after this. I’m sure our fellow classmates will need Team Levelheadedness to come clean up their mess again.

-B  
~~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Sun, June 1, 8:17 pm  
Subject: I dropped Owen Meany on my foot

It hurt. I’m not sure how I feel about this book. It seems like it might be violent. (the physical book, not the actual story. I’m now picturing it attacking me like  The Monster Book of Monsters . Oh, look at that! My dork flag is flying!)

Are you sure it’s good? I know, I know, I should have read it by now, seeing as how the discussion of it starts this week. I am a slacker.

Are you around online? Maybe we could take this to i.m.?

~~~~~

To Kurt, From Blaine  
Date: Sun, June 1, 11:38 pm  
Subject: Re:I dropped Owen Meany on my foot

Ugh, sorry I missed this email. I was having a “discussion” with my dad. We “discussed” his interest in me leaving the house more. And I nodded a lot. It’s not that I’m lazy or something, my summer job just doesn’t start for a couple weeks, so I’m... decompressing. My father doesn’t think this is valid. I went for a seven mile run today, does that count for nothing?!

ANYWAY.

Owen Meany is one of those books that just stuck with me, it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. I read it last summer (twice, I’ll admit it. I read it twice. In a row.) And it was amazing. I got to the end and it was a mind fuck. So if that’s what you look for in your literature then you are in for a treat!

Can I take a rain check on the chat? I think if we save it for Wednesday night when the rest of the class starts losing their shit over Owen, you and I can sit back and watch. It sounds illuminating.

I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I’m getting to stir the pot a little bit. Watch out D.Marshall, I’m coming for you.

I never thought of myself as an intellectual snob until right this second. I also don’t usually swear this much in emails to strangers.

Until next time, continue flying that dork flag with pride.

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Mon, June 2, 2:46 am  
Subject: Re: I dropped Owen Meany on my foot

I’ve been reading Owen for the past 6 hours. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN? WHY IS IT SO GOOD? I have no idea where it’s going, but it’s gooooooooood.

I think I’m drunk on reading. And tiredness. I have work in 7 hours.

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Mon, June 2, 10:07 am  
Subject: Re: I dropped Owen Meany on my foot

Work is terrible today. I blame Owen.

I wanted to apologize for my extremely late and weird email last night. But I just really wanted you to know that I was liking the book. And I wanted you to know IMMEDIATELY. Obviously.

And I’m writing this email because I feel like I didn’t fully digest your original email.

I’m no dad expert, my dad is … sort of perfect. I just lucked out. I’m sure your dad will get over it once your job starts. I don’t know, were you looking for advice or not looking for advice? It’s so hard to tell in email.

So does that mean you’re living at home this summer and if that’s the case where is home? I’m in NY for the summer. I have an internship that was too good to pass up.

I’m sure D.Marshall is very afraid.

~~~~~

From: Blaine, To: Kurt  
Date: Mon, June 2, 11:22 am  
Subject: Re: I dropped Owen Meany on my foot

I will now liveblog my morning:  
I woke up, grabbed my lap top, poured a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, turned on The Price is Right, logged into my email and promptly spewed a mouthful of cereal onto the coffee table.

That email about Owen in the middle of the night was gold. Pure comedic gold. Now come to Ohio and kindly clean up this mess. (yes, I’m in Ohio for the summer, a decision I’m regretting.)

Tell me about your internship.

(About my dad, I didn’t need advice, just needed a quick vent.)

~~~~~

From: Kurt, To: Blaine  
Date: Mon, June 2, 11:37 am  
Subject: a very important email

I am typing this email with the most serious face that I can muster simply because my boss is currently staring at me. It could be because I lolled inappropriately at your liveblogging. I am not hungover on alcohol, madam, I am hungover on READING. My love of literature kept me from my... Ok, she stopped looking at me.

I’m interning at Teen Vogue. I will now give you... 30 seconds to laugh your ass off. And begin.  
*  
*  
*  
*  
*  
End laughter.

It’s actually a really good internship. I mean I’m not doing much more than running around the office and fielding phone calls, but it’s good experience. I just want it on my resume so maybe I can do something else someday.

And you know what,  I love Teen Vogue ok? It might not be the best magazine, I know it’s no Seventeen, or Sassy in the early 90’s, but it doesn’t mean that it’s not good.

Oh, you weren’t going to say any of that and I just got defensive for no reason? Oh. Oops.

Anyway, Ohio you say? I’m from Lima. Ohioans of the world unite under the banner of levelheadedness!

Shit fuck. I need more coffee.

~~~~~

To: Kurt, From: Blaine  
Date: Mon, June 2, 12:02 pm  
Subject: Re: a very important email

I live about 2 hours from Lima. Just outside of Columbus, in New Albany to be exact.

I just saw the most amazing thing on the Price is Right. Not only did TWO people spin a dollar, one of them WON BOTH SHOWCASES. I mean, really. What are the odds?!? If I cared I would do the math. Lucky for us, I don’t actually care. I just watch in case they play Plinko. What is it about the magic of Plinko?

I think your internship sounds kind of cool. I mean, especially if you’re getting experience in something you want to do. Definitely more glamorous than what I’m doing this summer. (camp counselor. But not sleep away camp, which would be cool, just your average run of the mill day camp.)

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Mon, June 2, 1:48 pm  
Subject: Re: a very important email

Blaine, your enthusiasm for the Price is Right makes me worry that your father might have a point about getting out more.

~~~~~

To Kurt, From: Blaine  
Date: Mon, June 2, 3:01 pm  
Subject: Re: a very important email

Whose side are you on?

Just because I spent the past 3 hours watching a Family Feud marathon on the game show network is no cause for concern.

I can quit whenever I want.

I can quit right now! Mostly because I don’t want to watch Louie Anderson host. I prefer Ray Combs or John O’Hurley.

That’s it, I’m going for a jog. So I can be home in time to feed my Sims dinner.

(You know I’m not really mad right? I mean, it’s just so hard to convey on the internet. Also, I love my Sims very dearly. I would never make them wait to eat until after I got back from running. Because then the social worker would come and the stove might catch on fire and they would all run around crying. And I wouldn’t be there Kurt. I wouldn’t be there to help them. Or to tell them when to go to the bathroom.)

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Mon, June 2, 4:48 pm  
Subject: You are a shut-in

I think I’m even more worried now.

And yet, I might just have to re-install the Sims. My roommate deleted it from my computer one night when I ran into her room and yelled “They’ve repossessed our toilet!!!” She thought I was serious. But I lost like seven generations of Sims. DAMN YOU WOMAN.

Thank God my day is almost over and I can go home and sleep and read Owen.

~~~~~

To: Kurt, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, June 3, 12:07 am  
Subject: Re: You are a shut-in

I had no idea that toilets could get repossessed in this game.


	8. Chapter 7

Blaine leans back in his desk chair after reading Kurt’s latest email, feeling content, like he’s kind of made a friend. He shoots off a quick reply and is so proud of himself for not over thinking every little thing he writes. In a matter of 5 days and just over a dozen emails, he feels like he knows this person, this Kurt, better than he, by all rights, should.

He feels a little out of control, the way he’s just talking and confessing. Showing various sides of himself, his obsession with game shows and The Sims. And it seems like Kurt actually kind of likes him. Not “like” likes him, he knows the odds of that happening are slim and Kurt’s probably not even gay.

He definitely never meant to talk about his dad. It wasn’t a bad fight, certainly not their worst, and Blaine feels like he came out of it the winner simply because he argued back for once. He was an active participant rather than just a sounding board for his father’s anger. Things are going to come to a head with them this summer. Blaine can feel it. He tries not to think about it too much, and instead focuses back on his new friend Kurt.

Blaine likes this a lot, having someone to talk to about things everyday, even if they’re mostly little things. He knows he could text Matt or whatever, but his summer job already started and they’re on completely different schedules. Blaine just didn’t expect to find this camaraderie in an online class, particularly considering he doesn’t usually seek out camaraderie in class face to face.

Falling asleep later that night, he can’t help but wonder if this is THE Kurt (Or was it Craig? or Kirby?), the Face. But he writes that off as fantasy, he’s not even sure if he heard the name right.

~~~~~  
A Moment of Kurt

Maybe if he makes a list of the things he knows about Blaine Anderson, he’ll realize that he’s making his feelings up in his head. It’s just such a bad idea, to feel attracted to someone after sending them a couple emails. He has hardly any concrete knowledge of this person.

A list of what Kurt knows about Blaine:  
1\. He is a dork.  
2\. He fights with his dad.  
3\. He likes to run long distances.  
4\. He is levelheaded.  
5\. He might be a shut-in.  
6\. He likes to read.

That’s it. That’s all Kurt knows. That’s not enough to base attraction on. He doesn’t even know if the guy is gay!

On the other hand, that’s not really all Kurt knows. He knows Blaine’s funny and intelligent and likes kids enough to want to be a camp counselor. He fights for the underdog. He’s compassionate and earnest in his opinions, though he can snark with the best of them. The best of them being Kurt, obviously.

~~~~~

“Blaine!” he hears his father call his name from the bottom of the stairs.

That means one of two things, either it’s time for dinner or Blaine’s in trouble. Considering they already ate, Blaine is pretty sure this isn’t good.

He might as well get this over with. It’s been over a week of emailing and chatting online with Kurt and it’s already becoming a ritual to sit back and watch their classmates discuss the latest book. The discussion opens tonight for  A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and Blaine is looking forward to seeing what they think. And he’s looking forward to talking to Kurt. A lot. He doesn’t want an argument, or “discussion,” with his father getting in the way of his evening.

He walks slowly down the stairs, hoping that if he prepares himself this might not be so bad, whatever it is. He takes deep, easy breaths like Paula always tells him to. As he lands on the last step, he’s sort of relaxed, probably as close to relaxed as he ever is in his parent’s house. He’s going to try to focus on the small victories he tells himself. That’s a mantra that he and Paula used to talk about. He hasn’t thought about it in a long time, but he thinks he’s going to need it right now.

“We’re in the kitchen,” his mother says.

The fact that his mother is involved makes him feel better. He’s about to walk into the kitchen the way he normally would. Shoulders hunched, head bowed, hands stuffed in pockets, body language that just screams “I surrender!” When he realizes, he doesn’t have to surrender. He doesn’t even know what they want yet, why is he surrendering? He takes another deep breath and lifts his chin. He walks into the kitchen with his head held high. ( Small victories, that’s one. )

His parents are sitting at the table with mugs before them. His mom offers him some tea, but he declines and takes the chair across from her.

“T-too hot for t-tea,” he says with a smile. A little shiver of happiness goes through him that he said something, rather than just shaking his head. ( That’s two. )

“Blaine, I was telling your father about your plans.” At his mother’s words, his father looks at Blaine, almost appraisingly.

Blaine nods, unsure of what he should say. He’s not sure where this is going and he’s trying to remain neutral for now.

“I’m not sure if education is really a fit for you, Blaine. We’re just trying to be honest with you and reasonable about your limitations. We worry about your ability to succeed in a career that requires as much communication as teaching does,” his father says.

His mom reaches to touch his father’s arm and says, with a bite in her voice, “I’d prefer you didn’t say we. I’m pretty sure I’ve made myself clear on this. I think Blaine should do what he wants and I think we should help him any way we can.” ( His mother’s already on his side. That’s three .)

His father looks displeased to say the least. But Blaine is still feeling ok. He’s not on the brink of panic with this conversation. He hasn’t had to participate much yet, but so far so good.

“What do you have to say for yourself Blaine?” his dad asks.

“Ssssince when am I on t-trial?” he questions softly. But his gaze stays with his father. He knows that if he speaks quietly, he might stutter less.

“Oh bud, you’re not on trial,” his mom sighs.

“Kinda fffffeels like it. I like mmmmmusic and I like kids and I think I could ddddah-do this,” Blaine insists, voice gaining volume.

“I know you like music, Blaine, but you’ve never even performed in front of people,” his father says. “You’ve never even tested yourself.”

“Yes, I have. I, I, p-play open mmmic nights with Matt. We do it all the t-time. I’ve even dd-dah-done ssolos,” Blaine is so happy he can tell them this. ( That’s four .)

“Hmph,” is all his father responds to that.

“And soooo what if I fah-ail?” Blaine feels suddenly... exasperated. (Not angry, not yet. Annoyed, put out, frustrated.) “What dd-does it matter to you if I fffffail? It’s my fffffailure, my dd-dis-disappointment. You don’t have to have anything to do with it.” ( That’s five .)

“I think your father worries that it’s going to be too much,” his mother says. She’s not taking her husband’s side, just acting as a mediator. She hopes Blaine can sense that.

Blaine looks away from both of them then. He can feel his expression darken, his nostrils flaring. What do they know? How on earth would they ever know how he feels at this moment? How is it any of their business? Sure now his father worries. What about all those years, Blaine’s whole life, when he was just as bad as the bullies at school? One of the few people who should have really understood how Blaine felt, was one of his worst tormentors.

(The small loser voice in his head tells him that they just care. He shouldn’t be so mad. They just know his limitations. They’re just being reasonable and giving him sound advice. He can’t talk in front of people. He’s never even spoken at open mic night. No one even knows his name there because Matt’s always making names up and Blaine can’t find his voice to correct him. And suddenly the small loser voice in his head and the Blaine he’s meant to be are speaking in unison...)

“I’m tired of not really bbbeing me. I’m tired of being just some kid with a sssstutter. ( Overtaking the small loser voice? That’s six .) I’ve worked so hard at trying to be invisible and to appease everyone and I’m just t-t-tired of it. I know what I want. I want to be me. Blaine. Not hide b-b-behind what I can and can’t sssay,” he exclaims ( His name with no trace of a stutter? That should count for two. That’s seven & eight. ), almost yelling, definitely the closest he’s ever gotten to yelling at his parents. Probably the loudest he’s ever been outside of growls of frustration into his pillow.

“You don’t think I’ve ever been d-dis-disappointed in myself? You think that sstuttering in front of a classroom is the worst thing I can imagine? It’s not. At least maybe sssomeone in that classroom would listen to me. Maybe they’d actually hear mmme.” Blaine can feel the tears in his eyes start prickling. He’s going to lose his momentum. He rises from his seat, hoping he can flee if he needs to, before he gets too emotional.

“I just, I-I don’t understand why you have to get dddown on me before I even sssstart. Before I even t-t-try. Isn’t it better to try?” Blaine says, hating the defeat in his voice, the way it cracked on “try”. He can feel his father looking at him, but he needs to avert his eyes for a few more seconds to gain his composure, to put his mask back on.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say in 10 years,” his father says, his voice holding just a small hint of something. Wonder? Blaine isn’t sure. ( That’s nine, though. He made his father listen .)

He shrugs, allowing his shoulders to fall just a little lower when they come back down, relaxing a bit.

“I just ww-want to tt-ta-try. And it wwwould be easier with your …” he pauses, but not because he’s blocked, but because he wants to find the perfect word. He’s not avoiding, ( that’s 10 ) he just wants to accurately express himself for once. “...support.”

He’s looking at his father. Not lowering his gaze, wanting him to see that Blaine means this. He’s not going to acquiesce, not this easily. His father looks away first. It’s then that he looks at his mother for the first time during the whole exchange.

She’s crying. She’s crying and smiling, the tips of her fingers touching her lips. Then she comes around the table to hug him.

Blaine feels lighter, even under the weight of her hug. ( That’s not a small victory, that’s everything he’s ever wanted .)

He knows this isn’t over, this war with his parents. And it can’t be until he’s completely honest with them, until he finally comes out to them. But for now, he’ll chalk this battle up as a victory.


	9. Chapter 8

  
June 26th  @ 8:16 pm  
Kurt: I’m here. I’m just invisible because I don’t want to talk to my step brother.  
Blaine: Family troubles?  
Kurt: No no, nothing like that  
    he’s just a terrible typer and I’m not in the mood.  
Blaine: lol  
Kurt: how are you?  
Blaine: How’s it going?  
Kurt: ha  
    I’ll start  
    I’m peachy.  
Blaine: with a side of keen?  
Kurt: you know it. now you?  
Blaine: I’m tired of children.  
    i hate when they’re mean to each other  
    it’s like, you’re 5 years old!  
    how can you be so mean already?  
    how can you be that jaded!?  
Kurt: smh  
    Kids these days  
Blaine: fo sho  
Kurt: you’re so gangster blaine  
    you and your dork flag  
    and your passion for game shows  
Blaine: i’m keeping it real  
    not letting the haters get me down  
Kurt: MY ROOMMATE IS A PSYCHO PATH  
Blaine: that was scary  
    did she delete your sims again?  
Kurt: no no, she was just reading over my shoulder  
    that’s what you get beeyotch  
Blaine: ha!  
    um, is she just your friend/roommate?  
    or like girlfriend/roommate  
    I’ve been meaning to ask  
Kurt: oh Rachel?  
    lol  
    yeah, just friends  
    I thought you knew  
    that I’m gay

@ 8:44 pm  
Blaine: oh  
Kurt: I mean, I work at teen vogue  
    and i *like* it  
Blaine: um  
Kurt: are you not ok with that?  
    I really thought you knew  
    I guess I never said it

@ 8:50 pm  
Blaine: I am too  
    gay  
    too  
Kurt: ooooh!  
    then you’re probably not a homophobe  
    as I was starting to think when you were silent for so long  
Blaine: no, no, i am not a homophobe  
    that would be bad  
    not to mention antithetical  
    and really awkward  
    for everyone involved  
Kurt: good

@ 9:01 pm  
Blaine: yes, quite  
    do you have a boyfriend?  
Kurt: are you asking me out blaine?  
    some kind of weird long distance  
    online only relationship  
    based on our mutual appreciation of dorkiness?

@ 9:09 pm  
Blaine: oh  
    i didn’t  
    um  
    mean it like that  
    just wondering  
    nbd  
    not hitting on you  
Kurt: it’s ok blaine  
    teasing  
    i wish there was a font for teasing  
Blaine: That *would* make life easier  
Kurt: but, no, alas, no boyfriend  
    I was dating someone for a while  
    almost a year  
    but in the end, we just didn’t see eye to eye  
Blaine: so you’re saying he was too short for you?  
    :D  
Kurt: Yes  
    he was too short  
    why do i honestly believe you’re making that face right now?  
Blaine: because i am  
    i’m that kid your mom warned you about  
    when she was like “don’t make that face, or it’ll stick”  
    well, I made that face kurt  
    and now I’m stuck forever in the mask of an overly bright smile  
    it’s awkward during sad movies and funerals  
Kurt: you are the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met  
    in an online lit class  
    over the summer  
    that has a very level-head  
Blaine: It’s most useful on roller coasters.  
     thanks for that  
Kurt: anytime  
    So are you seeing anyone?

@ 9:21  
Blaine: me? no.  
    sort of embarrassing  
    but i’ve never had a boyfriend  
Kurt: that’s not embarrassing  
    I’ve only really had the one in college  
    and I sort of dated a guy in high school  
    but it was weird  
    and mostly unhealthy, looking back on it  
    he may have been a sociopath  
Blaine: ah  
    i don’t know whether to be intrigued or scared  
Kurt: I would say both  
    it was just one of those weird things  
    there were no other out kids at my school  
    and there were bullies  
    and i met a guy at the local coffee place  
    Sebastian, his name is  
    and he was the only out guy I’d ever met  
Blaine: hmm  
Kurt: hmm, what?  
Blaine: hmm, nothing, i just felt like i needed to say/write something so that you didn’t think i  wandered away from the computer  
Kurt: oh ok  
    anyway  
    it wasn’t a great relationship  
    but it was... something  
    I guess something I needed?  
    like, i needed to act on “being gay”  
    which sounds sort of dumb now  
    you’re either gay or you’re not  
    whether you hook up with guys or not  
Blaine: actually i think i totally understand  
    I was humiliatingly inexperienced when i got to college  
    and the first time I kissed a guy  
    I felt better  
    owning my sexuality or something  
Kurt: YES  
    that’s it  
    that makes sense  
Blaine: so, whatever happened with Sebastian?  
Kurt: eh, it was high school  
    we went to my senior prom together  
    made out in cars  
    blackmailed one of the football players that used to harass me  
Blaine: Really?  
Kurt: yes  
    that didn’t go very well though  
    he, the football player, ended up coming out and I just felt like an asshole  
    like i forced him to  
    which I didn’t, because I had no idea that he was gay  
    but it still kind of *felt* like I made him  
    I felt really bad  
    i still feel kind of bad  
    come to think of it, this is all terrible stuff to tell you  
    makes me sound like a really awful person  
Blaine: nah  
    i think we all do stuff that we’re not proud of  
    that’s what happens sometimes

@ 9:59 pm  
Kurt: I feel like you need to tell me something you’re not proud of, Blaine  
    I mean, if it’s not too personal  
    oh forget it, that was jerky  
    why do you continue to talk to me?  
    I’m just gonna  
    go crawl in this hole  
    over here  
    or something.  
  
@ 10:06 pm  
Blaine: kurt  
    calm down  
Kurt: ok  
    calm  
Blaine: I think it’s fair to ask  
    the give and take  
    i think that’s part of the fun of this, at least for me  
Kurt: this weird little thing we have going on  
Blaine: yes  
    our peculiar institution  
Kurt: isn’t that a euphemism for slavery?  
Blaine: Oh. you’re right. oops.  
    sorry about that  
    anyway  
  
@ 10:19 pm  
Kurt: Blaine?  
  
@10:25  
Blaine: I’m working on it  
    i want to say it right  
    i guess i’m not proud of how i’m not always myself  
Kurt: ?  
Blaine: i mean, i’m here, “sitting next to you in cyberspace”  
    but i’m not really like this  
    at all in real life  
    i’m actually  
    really shy  
    I would have never talked to you in class  
    you would say all this funny stuff  
    I would have sat there  
    paralyzed with fear of saying something wrong  
    so I wouldn’t have said anything at all  
    which I know is stupid  
    but it’s just how I am  
    and you would just think I was the weirdo who never laughed or made eye contact  
Kurt: i doubt that  
Blaine: and everyday after class  
    i’d go home and think of 30 things I could have said and didn’t  
    it’s true  
Kurt: i’m sure you would have warmed up to me by now  
Blaine: maybe  
    but i still wouldn’t have been this... confident  
    or verbose  
    you probably would have eventually decided to try to talk to the person on the other side of you  
    and just written me off as a lost cause  
Kurt: you don’t know that  
Blaine: but maybe that’s what would have happened  
Kurt: maybe  
    thanks for the share blaine  
Blaine: any time kurt.  
    good shares all around tonight  
  
@ 11:02 pm  
Blaine: Mother of pearl!  
    How did it get so late!?!  
Kurt: Mother of pearl?  
Blaine: yes  
    I’m trying to cut back on swearing  
    I almost said “the eff word” in front of a dozen 5 year olds the other day  
    I would imagine such language would be a near fire-able offense at a summer camp  
    I’ve also taken to saying “cheese on a cracker”  
Kurt: can you please give an example of how one would use that phrase?  
Blaine: it’s kind of like son of a b-word  
Kurt: ah yes  
    of course  
    makes perfect sense  
    keep me posted on these fascinating new phrases that are peppering your vocabulary  
Blaine: i will  
    for sure  
    I guess I should go to bed  
Kurt: yeah, those kids need guidance  
    and only a rested counselor can truly offer that  
    one who is not a potty mouth  
Blaine: Those kids are bitches  
    sorry  
    those kids are b-words  
    I had no idea I could ever feel that way about such small children  
    it makes me wonder if I really want to be a teacher  
Kurt: I didn’t know you wanted to be a teacher  
    thats cute  
Blaine: thank you  
    kindly explain that to my father  
Kurt: issues? : /  
Blaine: some, no big deal  
    my mom is helping me with it  
Kurt: I’m here whenever you need to talk  
    honestly  
    or have my cell number  
    call or text or whatever  
    419-555-7298  
Blaine: i’m not much of a phone talker  
    but good to have anyway  
    in case i need to shoot you a very important text about my sims  
    who, bee tee dubs, got married today!  
Kurt: congrats to them  
  
@ 11:21 pm  
Blaine: honestly kurt  
    thanks  
    this is nice  
Kurt: i agree  
  
@ 11:29 pm  
Blaine:  alright, i should really go  
    those kids won’t reprimand themselves  
Kurt: no they will not  
Blaine: oh!  
    i don’t know if you’ll care  
    but i won’t be around this weekend  
    if you look for me online or whatever  
    i’m going to meet my roommate Matt in Akron for a concert  
Kurt: Matt?  
Blaine: yeah  
    why?  
Kurt: nothing, I didn’t know your roommate’s name  
Blaine: oh, ok  
    anyway, just so you know  
Kurt: thanks for the heads up  
    I will try not to miss you too much  
    and I’ll send D.Marshall your love  
Blaine: Don’t you dare  
Kurt: I’ll tell her that you agree with her that the Kite Runner would have been cooler if it took place in America  
Blaine: she so obviously never finishes any of the books  
    the end of the book IS in America  
    so frustrating!!  
    and it’s such a good book!!  
    why woudn’t she finish it!??!  
Kurt: go to sleep blaine  
Blaine: ok  
    good night Kurt  
Kurt: g’night  
     have fun at your concert :)  
Blaine: Thanks :D  
Blaine signed off @ 11:50 pm  
~~~~~  
A moment of Kurt  
  
Who is this wonderful boy that I’ve stumbled upon? And who on earth just sent me a text?  
  
\----------  
11:52 pm  
unknown #: Guess who this is? :D   
\-----------  
  
No really, where did he come from???


	10. Chapter 9

  
If Blaine didn’t feel completely out of control before, he does now.

He’s never, ever let himself just... talk like that before. Not even to Paula. Or type like that, as it’s not actually speaking. Basically, he’s never expressed himself via any medium with that much earnestness and candor.

For most of the conversation he just had with Kurt, his hands were shaking and his stomach was in a free-fall. He told Kurt he’s shy. That’s a really big deal to Blaine. Unfortunately, he’s well aware that he wasn’t completely honest. Which is a vicious cycle, because the whole reason he brought up his shyness in the first place was to illustrate that he’s not proud that he’s not always himself. And promptly, he wasn’t honest about himself.

On the one hand, Blaine is  shy . On the other hand, that’s certainly not his biggest obstacle. If he really wanted to be honest with Kurt, he would have told him about his stutter. He would have told him why he’s shy. His eyes are crossing just trying to reason this out. He should make a flow chart or something.

Blaine sometimes thinks about a world where he doesn’t stutter. It’s hard to imagine not being nervous and holding back when opening his mouth. He always assumed he would still be reserved, introverted. But when he looks at the emails he sends Kurt, and their i.m. conversations, he wonders if that might be closer to the real thing. The real Blaine that he yearns to be.

There’s a few things about the conversations that immediately jump out out at Blaine. He’s not suave or cool. But he’s funny, he’s quick, and he has an excellent vocabulary. In real life, he’s often hurriedly trying to substitute words. Half the time when he speaks, his sentences are just barely what he even means to say because he’s substituting words half-assedly, grasping for any word that sort of fits what he means to say.

But with Kurt, online, he’s different. He’s still nervous, but it’s more like wanting to say the right thing and impress Kurt, rather than being nervous about saying something period.

It’s weird that they’ve barely known each other for even a month yet. Even weirder that they don’t actually “know” each other in real life. Blaine still wonders if he’s the Face, but every time that thought goes through his head, he berates himself. “Life is not a fairy tale, B.” (His inner voice often sounds like Cooper these days.)

~~~~~

A moment from Blaine’s boss

Maggie Coleman has been running Camp Sunnyside since the early 1980’s. She’s hired many, many camp counselors over the years. She’s probably passed on hiring 5 times as many. Maggie is very relieved she didn’t pass up hiring Blaine Anderson.

Upon first meeting him, she may have had some reservations about hiring a camp counselor who stuttered. Her gut reaction was that it was a bad idea. She worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle the children or take charge. She worried that the children might not listen to him or behave for him, maybe sensing a weakness because he sounded different than other people.

She was very, very wrong.

Watching this young man interact with children is a pleasure. If only all the counselors cared the way Blaine does. He requested to work with the youngest campers, which is by no means easy. She worried that he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Such a wide eyed kid, who told her so sincerely, so earnestly during his interview that he really wants to teach music or maybe kindergarten.

Everyday he impresses her though. She sees him crouch down to the campers level when they cry, break up arguments with only a stern look at the offending pair, and fix up scraped knees with the most gentle hands. She’s never, in her 33 years of running this camp seen a 19 year old like Blaine Anderson.

Even just a week into the season, Maggie’s looking forward to handing him a reference letter at the end of August and offering him an open ended job for every summer henceforth.

She can see that he has such potential.

She’s so happy she didn’t go with her gut this time.

~~~~~

Blaine likes his job, he really does.

But certain days are just hell.

He loves the kids, and almost fits in with the other counselors. They think he’s a kiss ass because he actually gets in the pool with his campers during free swim and because he sits with the kids at lunch, rather than shooting the breeze in clusters like the rest of the counselors do.

He’s here for the kids, not to make friends.

Truth be told, he heard a couple of the other counselors laugh at his stutter on the first day. During lunch, a group of them waved him over. He was nervous. A lot of his ticks started in, blinking, fist clenching, and when he tried to introduce himself, not much came out of his mouth. He took a deep breath and smiled and tried again.

It had been a long time since he was in this position. Blushing, blinking and blocking. All of the blah words. He did eventually get his name out. And he tried to make some small talk about the weather. “Yeah, I hope it www-won’t be this hot all sah-sah-sssummer,” he said, smile still on his face, eyes anywhere but making contact with anyone else. He excused himself after that, saying he wanted to check on the kids and see if they needed anything. As he walked away, he heard one of the guys say “sah sah sah sah!” He only got one laugh, everyone else told him to shut up. But Blaine felt... ostracized from the group after that. So he avoided them.

Throughout the summer, there were a couple of the counselors who would invite him out sometimes, to bars or the movies or to dinner. But he didn’t have a fake id and he’d rather go to the movies by himself and he couldn’t imagine trying to sit through dinner with relative strangers. He would always say no and they would tease him, mostly good-naturedly.

About a week into the summer, he briefly considered quitting. It was a terrible, terrible day. Two of his teeny tiny campers had gotten into a serious fight, like a punching and pulling hair fight. He had to bodily drag them apart. He’s not even sure what happened. Then one of his other kids peed in the pool and another threw up in the changing room. It was just terrible.

But at the end of the day, right before the kids were getting picked up, one of the boys, Teddy (or the Urinator as Blaine would always think of him from that day on), came up next to Blaine and gave him a hug. He looked up at Blaine, middle teeth missing, mouth in a wide smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” Teddy said.

“Thank you fffor being  my friend,” Blaine replied, as he put an arm around Teddy’s back.

“I’m sorry I peed in the pool.”

“It’s all good, little man, these things happen. Nobody’s mmmad about it. Ok?” Blaine reassures the boy.

“Ok.” Teddy bounds away as his mom pulls up to the curb. He waves at Blaine as he hops up into the car and Blaine feels warm.

Someone else approaches him from the side. It’s the camp director, Maggie. She is a seriously intimidating woman. She’s the kind of woman that goes home and has a scotch and a steak cooked rare every night for dinner. Blaine heard that she was in the Navy. He does his best not to cower.

“I’ve been watching you with those kids, Blaine,” Maggie starts. “I’m very impressed. If you need anything from me, do not hesitate to ask.”

Blaine feels that warmth again and smiles and says “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”  He nods and waves as he makes his way to staff lot.

He’s definitely not going to quit.

~~~~~

A few weeks after his terrible, horrible, no good, rotten day, Blaine gets home from work and finds that he has an abundance of emails. One from Matt, one from Kurt and about a million alerts for this week’s discussion thread on  Angela’s Ashes .

He decides to open Matt’s email first, just to hold the suspense a little longer.

To: Blaine, From: Matt  
Date: Wed, July 9th, 11:37 pm  
Subject: Hot dudes on the internet

If you’re reading this email, you should know that I lied about the hot dudes.

I just wanted to get your attention.

Do you have my guitar strap? The one I bought at that weird fireworks depot/Mexican cantina/t-shirt emporium in Pennsylvania over spring break? I can’t find it anywhere. Either you stole it, I left it somewhere, or my little brother is hiding it from me.

I could tickle the information out of him, but I thought I’d ask you first.

Don’t be jeally Blaine, I would tickle the information out you, too, if we were in the same state.

~~~~~

To: Matt, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, Jul 10th, 5:51 pm  
Subject: Re: Hot dudes on the internet

How dare you accuse me?

Fine. I have it. It got mixed in with my belt collection.

That time I wore it as a belt...

That was a weird night.

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Thurs, Jul 10th, 12:42 pm  
Subject: I can’t even, with her

D.Marshall @ 9:43 am  
I just really don’t think the character of Angela is so great. Why does everyone thing she’s so great? I mean it’s not even really about her. It’s about her kids. It should be called Frank’s Ashes.

I saw this and exclaimed: MOTHER OF PEARL. (which is completely your fault. You and your sanitized camp counselor cursing. You’ve ruined me.)

Who let this girl into college? How in the holy hamburger (sanitized! you’ve sanitized me!) did she get into NEW YORK UNIVERSITY?

I’m fuming. WTF. (which stands for “what the fudge,” because you have taken all the joy out of swearing.)

I can’t even swear properly anymore, Blaine! 

You suck. (haha, i said it!)

D.Marshall sucks. (she does!)

I’ve had 4 espressos.

I rolled over my toe earlier? And I yelled “Cheese on cracker!” What does that even mean Blaine??? What does that even mean??? And everyone in the office looked at me like I was the crazy one?

~~~~~

To: Kurt, From: Blaine  
Date: Thurs, Jul 10th 6:02 pm  
Subject: Lay off the crack pipe, sir

Dearest Kurt,

Lovely to hear from you today. I particularly enjoyed the humorous anecdote you divulged about your school chums. A truly marvelous tale, woven with such an eye for detail. Their opinions seem not only sound and intelligent, but somewhat lyrical in quality.

We must speak again soon.

Sincerely,  
Blaine Anderson

ps- cheese on a cracker kurt  
pps- FUNKY cheese on a FUNKING FUNKY cracker  
pppps- I’ve ruined swearing for you because misery loves company  
ppppppppps- MUAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Kurt  
Date: Thurs, July 10th 6:05 pm  
Subject: Re: Lay off the crack pipe, sir

Step away from the flippin’ thesaurus and meet me on i.m., ya birdbrain.

~~~~~

To: Blaine, From: Matt  
Date: Thurs, July 10th, 6:13 pm  
Subject: Re: Hot dudes on the internet

You own exactly one belt. Which may or may not be my guitar strap. To call it a “belt collection” is a bit of an overstatement, don’t you think?

Some day Blainey-boy you and I are going to send normal emails to each other and on that day I will weep.

Speaking of hot dudes, what’s going on with your internet friend?


	11. Chapter 10

  
July 27th @ 9:08 pm

Blaine: Are you hiding?  
Kurt: Of course  
Blaine: Finn’s online?  
Kurt: and rachel  
    I think they’re fighting  
    i’m not sure if she’s laughing or crying  
    she’s listening to adele  
Blaine: probably crying then  
    but they’re not dating?  
Kurt: no, they haven’t been together for a couple of years  
    but it’s like every once in awhile they hook up  
    and Rachel was in Ohio 4th of July weekend  
    and they were at a party  
    and  
    dot  
    dot  
    dot  
Blaine: oooooh  
    sounds complicated  
    possibly overwrought  
Kurt: That’s a good way to describe them  
    one time in high school they got engaged  
Blaine: am i allowed to roll my eyes?  
Kurt: of course  
Blaine: *eye roll*  
Kurt: anyway, I don’t think they can help themselves  
Blaine: I’m nodding, you can’t see me though  
Kurt: no, you’re right, nodding doesn’t translate well to IM  
    perhaps we should take this to Skype?

@ 9:37 pm  
Blaine: oh  
    my camera isn’t working  
    maybe next time  
Kurt: yeah sure  
    How are the little a-holes?  
Blaine: Surprisingly less a-holey than usual  
    No one slapped anyone this week  
    or peed in the pool  
    which I’m taking as a personal victory  
Kurt: I would too  
    I’m sure it’s only under your watchful eye that they’ve learned to behave themselves  
    getting back to the matter at hand though  
Blaine: ?  
Kurt: Do you like to cry to adele, blaine?  
Blaine: it’s the only way to cry  
Kurt: ok  
    so they make a movie of your life  
    what song has to go on the soundtrack?  
Blaine: omg  
    i love this question  
    we haven’t really talked about music  
Kurt: no we haven’t  
    we’ve been too busy mocking people in our class  
    and comparing eccentricities  
    i suppose music is a pedestrian topic compared to your sims recent divorce  
    are you a music lover?  
Blaine: YES  
    I want to be a music teacher actually  
    (side note: I’d been toying with being a kindergarten teacher but camp ruined 5 year olds for me.)  
    I play piano and guitar  
    I write stuff  
    music  
    lyrics  
    sometimes  
    crappy stuff  
    but i love the process  
Kurt: hello, enthusiasm!  
    I love music too  
    I was in glee club in high school  
Blaine: i wish I had the nerve to be involved in high school  
Kurt: it was definitely the best part of hs for me  
    good times  
Blaine: Waiting for my real life to begin by Colin Hay  
    that would be my soundtrack song  
    I can picture the montage already  
    what about you?  
Kurt: I should never ask questions  
    that i myself don’t know the answer to  
Blaine: lol  
Kurt: I could take the easy way out and say Born This Way  
    but I feel like there’s something else  
    hmm  
Blaine: Sometimes there’s nothing wrong with taking the easy way  
Kurt: that’s sort of profound blaine  
Blaine: i know!  
    it’s impressive  
    sometimes I channel fortune cookie wisdom  
Kurt: you’re a regular confuscious  
Blaine: I think we need a font for wry-ness  
Kurt: I’ll add it to the list  
    now we have:  
    wry-ness  
    levelheadness  
    teasing  
    stupidity (which we could use jokerman for, I made a note)  
    sarcasm  
    I think that’s it so far  
Blaine: “you’re a tool D.Marshall”  
Kurt: yes, we need that one too  
Blaine: I can’t call her anything else besides D.Marshall  
    even though I know her name is Deirdre  
Kurt: I know  
    I want to use it as an insult in real life  
    “you’re such a D.Marshall”  
Blaine: ha!  
Kurt: speaking of real life  
    I’m going to be in Ohio the first weekend in August  
    Are you going to be around?  
    Maybe we could meet in Columbus or something?  
    I don’t know  
    no big deal  
Blaine: first weekend in August?  
    I’m going to Cleveland with my brother  
    he’s got tickets to see the Indians  
Kurt: You like baseball?  
Blaine: It’s ok  
    I like hanging out with my brother  
    :)  
Kurt: aw  
Blaine: I know, family values  
Kurt: do I dare ask how things are with your dad?  
Blaine: sigh  
    I don’t know  
    i want to tell you something  
    but i hope you don’t think less of me

@ 10:03 pm  
Kurt: Blaine?  
    Did you fall asleep?  
Blaine: ha, no  
    I’m just embarrassed  
Kurt: It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me  
    you realize you brought it up right?  
Blaine: yeah  
    I just  
    I haven’t come out  
    to my parents yet  
    and it’s  
Kurt: oooooohhhhhh  
Blaine: weighing me down  
Kurt: got it  
    totally totally got it  
Blaine: so yeah  
Kurt: well  
    i mean, it’s not easy  
    I believe i’ve mentioned that my dad is amazing  
    and even he had trouble at first  
    I mean, he was nice about it  
    but he was... uncomfortable  
Blaine: what about your mom?  
Kurt: oh  
    my mom died  
    when i was 8  
Blaine: i’m sorry  
    stupid question, i should have thought of that  
Kurt: no, no  
    it’s ok  
Blaine: i guess i just thought they were divorced or something  
    I never considered  
Kurt: I do wonder sometimes  
    how she would have reacted  
    anyway  
    it’s not going to be easy

Blaine: i know  
    i see a therapist  
    who i’ve been going to  
    since I was little  
    (yes I’m coming out to YOU about going to therapy)  
    and we’ve been talking about this a lot  
    trying to come up with a strategy  
Kurt: can i ask why you started going?  
    to therapy?  
Blaine: i wouldn’t talk in school  
Kurt: so you really are shy, huh?  
Blaine: painfully  
    most of the time  
    i wasn’t exaggerating  
Kurt: I’m nodding  
Blaine: maybe we need a nodding font?  
Kurt: on the list  
Blaine: anyway  
    I don’t really know how to handle it  
    coming out  
    Paula suggested maybe i should talk to you about it  
    since you have actually come out  
    and Paula is a 56 year old straight woman  
    with a husband of 34 years  
    she thinks you might be a better source for material  
    also she knew that telling me to talk to you about it  
    would make me have to talk about it  
    and talking is good  
    bottling stuff up is bad  
    i’m rambling  
  
@ 10:37 pm  
Blaine: Kurt?  
Kurt: you told Paula about me?  
    I’m flattered :)  
Blaine: yeah :)  
     we just talk about my life  
    and i guess you’re part of my life  
     kind of a lot these days  
Kurt: i’m blushing  
Blaine: me too  
    but that’s not particularly rare for me  
Kurt: blushing font added to the list  
Blaine: where the hell are we going to find all these fonts?  
Kurt: don’t change the subject  
Blaine: don’t reprimand me  
    you’re not my camp counselor  
    :P  
Kurt: ha!  
    anyway  
    I think  
    the only way to come out  
    is just to do it  
    I mean you have to, at some point  
    I guess you don’t *have* to  
    but it would be like living a lie  
Blaine: i know  
    i do know  
    it doesn’t mean i’m not scared  
    like really scared  
Kurt: maybe tell them that you’re scared?  
    be honest with them  
    you’re scared to tell them, but you need them to know  
    i don’t know how to delicately ask this  
Blaine: just do it then  
    I can take it  
Kurt: do you think  
    they’re going to like  
    disown you?  
    or just be sad/disappointed/confused etc.?  
Blaine: I don’t know  
    i’d like to think that they love me enough  
    just to love me  
    no matter what  
Kurt: which is what you should be able to expect from your parents  
    unconditionally  
Blaine: i think they’ll be mad  
    or something  
    but not disown me  
Kurt: ok  
    that’s good  
    that’s important  
Blaine: I was thinking I’d come out to cooper when I see him  
    my brother  
    and see what he thinks  
Kurt: do you think he might be willing to be there?  
    when you tell them?  
Blaine: I think he probably would  
    i never thought of that  
    that might help  
Kurt: good  
Blaine: thanks Kurt  
    that’s like  
    a really good idea  
    i would have never thought to ask cooper to be there  
    I feel better about this  
Kurt: Good :)  
Blaine:    I feel like I should give you something  
    for helping me  
    do you want to hear a song?  
Kurt: um, sure?  
  
@ 10:52 pm  
Blaine: It’s me playing the piano  
    it’s not long  
    I’m not singing or anything  
    just messing around on the piano  
    but i got some editing stuff on my computer  
    and i wanted to record myself  
    usually i play this song on guitar  
    but i slowed it down and changed the key a bit for the piano  
Kurt: ok  
Blaine: I’ll email it to you  
  
@11:07 pm  
Kurt: I literally just listened to this 8 times  
    this is you?  
Blaine: yes  
Kurt: you wrote this?  
Blaine: yeah  
    I know it’s not perfect, I mess up  
Kurt: it’s amazing blaine  
    it’s … delicate  
    yet bouncy?  
Blaine: i think i could get behind that description  
    so you really like it?  
Kurt: I just put it on my ipod  
    I love it  
    what’s it about?  
Blaine: insert blushing font  
    oh nothing  
    just a silly little tune  
Kurt: lol  
    it’s late  
    work in the morning  
Blaine: yeah  
    thanks for talking to me kurt  
    i mean about everything tonight  
    but like  
    in general too  
Kurt: it’s fun. nice.  
    i want to find a better word than nice  
    it’s better than nice  
Blaine: perhaps it’s  
     amiable  
    engaging  
    ineffable  
    winsome  
Kurt: you’re totally looking at a thesaurus  
Blaine: i just like having a lot of words in my arsenal  
    makes me feel smart  
Kurt: so you’re at war then? :)  
Blaine: sometimes  
    not right now though   
Kurt: i think *you’re* winsome  
Blaine: I think *you’re* ineffable

night kurt

Kurt: night blaine  
  
Winsome: adj- sweetly or  innocently charming  
Ineffable: adj- too great to be described in words


	12. Chapter 11

  
On Saturday morning, Blaine gets a call from his dad. His car died in the parking lot of his office (yes, his dad goes in on Saturday’s more often than not) and he needs Blaine to pick him up at the dealership where it was towed.

Blaine can tell his father is fuming mad. The car is only a couple months old and apparently it has a faulty electrical system. Blaine knows this trip will be filled with landmines. But he has to go get him, his mom’s at a baby shower.

When his father gets in the car, he greets Blaine with a “Damn car, it better be fixed before we leave for vacation.” At least his rage is focused at the car rather than Blaine. Poor car, Blaine thinks. He’s also thrilled that he isn’t going on vacation with his parents. Can’t miss the last week of camp, that’s when they have color war.

He just nods as he pulls out of the lot.

In a rare moment of spontaneity, his father suggests they stop at the new coffee place that just opened on their way home. Blaine hasn’t been there yet, but he agrees, because it’s easier to agree. Coffee has been known to soothe the savage beast, which is how Blaine thinks of his father’s anger.

When they get inside, the place is fairly packed. Blaine isn’t paying much attention to what’s going on, just reading the menu and thinking about coffee. When it’s his turn to order he just asks for an iced mocha. It pops out without any duress. But then the girl behind the counter asks for his name.

His dad has already made his way down the line to wait for his drink and Blaine looks around, suddenly aware that his vocal chords are locked. The girl behind the counter just looks at him, as he tries to clear his throat and jar the word loose. ( This .) Nothing’s happening though. And he starts to shake his head.

“Are you ok? Are you having a seizure or something?” the girl asks, her face suddenly becoming fearful.

Blaine knows he can’t explain, there are no words that will get through right now. Other people are looking too, but his father remains oblivious. The woman in line behind him touches his arm, “Do you need help? Are you here by yourself?”

He hears other voices now. All slightly panicked, all talking about him.

“Maybe we should call an ambulance?”

“I don’t know anything about seizures.”

“If he falls to the ground, we have to make sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue.”

Everything is falling apart, the world is blurring at the edges. This is why Blaine doesn’t order coffee at places like this. This is everything he fears. ( This is why .) This is everything that’s wrong with him.

He has to get out of here immediately. He can’t even get his father’s attention to signal that he’s going out to the car. Instead, he just puts his hand firmly over his mouth, shakes his head violently and runs from the store.

“Oh, maybe he was going to throw up!” the girl behind the counter exclaims as the door to the shop closes behind Blaine.

Outside is so bright and Blaine’s so distracted by his thoughts, for a minute he can’t find the car. For a minute, he can’t find his breath. ( This is why you can never .) He lets himself start to cry, even though he really doesn’t want his father to find him crying in the car. However, Blaine knows that if doesn’t release a little of this bottled up emotion, he really might be sick. Tears over vomit any day.

He gets in the car and bows his head on the steering wheel. Why does this happen? Why do these things happen just when he thinks he might be making progress? ( This is why you can never meet Kurt .) And why does he let them, these situations, bring him down so far, so fast?

He takes deep breaths, in, out. Count to ten. Clench his fists, unclench his fists. Blink. Breathe.

Stop crying. It’s not worth crying. Wipe your eyes.

In another minute, his father is at the car too.

“What the hell just happened in there, Blaine? People are talking about some boy having a seizure or an attack of some kind. And when I looked around, you weren’t there. What happened? What’s your problem?”

He doesn’t say anything. He knows the answer, but he can’t do this yet. He buries his face in his hands and breathes. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. He removes his hands from his face and turns to his father. With the barest trace of quiet rage in his voice, Blaine says exactly what he’s wanted to say for the past 19 years.

“My ppproblem is you.” Blaine can feel all the words building in his throat, every unspoken thought he’s had about his father is coming up and they all want out.

He father scoffs. “Don’t do this Blaine. Don’t make my day worse.”

“Why? You always mah-make my day worse. You’ve never, ever given me a bbbreak. So why would I give you a break?” Blaine suddenly feels like a truth machine, churning out truths faster than he even knew he could think them

“Do you really want to do this Blaine? Do you really want to pick this fight with me, when the person you’re really mad it is yourself?” His father’s right, he is mad at himself, but that doesn’t make Blaine wrong.

“I am mad at myself, but I’m more mah-mad at you. And I’m mad at the whole world for being so fucking inconsiderate and sssselfish.” Blaine is shocked that he just swore like that in front of his father. But Blaine is finally, thoroughly, fully angry. Not disappointed or hopeless. Blaine is Angry. With a capital A.

“Do you think I’m inconsiderate and selfish?” his father asks, with a warning twitch of his eyebrows.

“I think you’re the kkking of inconsiderate and self-selfish. And I don’t just think that about how you treat me. I think that about how you tah-treat Mom, too. You treat her like she’s hardly more than a hired ssservant.” Blaine is on fire now. His face is on fire, he words are flames. This is everything he’s ever wanted to say.

“Don’t bring my relationship with your mother into this. That is none of your business. This is about you and me. Let’s call it for what it is. I have a feeling you’ve just been waiting for an opportunity to say these things since you got home this summer.”

“SSSSince I got home?” Blaine sneers, “I’ve bbbeen waiting to say these things my whole life. I’ve finally found my voice you arrogant son of a bitch.” He’s so happy he didn’t stutter on the word bitch. Small victories.

“You obviously didn’t find your voice in the coffee place,” he father mocks.

Blaine’s jaw drops.

“That was low. That was really fucking low, but I’m not ssssurprised. Why do you hate me? Why are you so hateful?” These are the questions that Blaine has wanted answers to for his whole life. He can’t believe he finally asked.

“I don’t hate you, I don’t know you. You never let me in.” His father suddenly seems sad. But Blaine’s not having any of it. He moves in for the jugular.

“You’ve nah-never given me any reason to ever think you wwwwanted in! You won’t even look at me! You don’t l-l-listen to me! I don’t think you’ve ever heard a single word I said.” Blaine has been building these thoughts for so long, he’s not sure if he’s going to be able to stop them all from leaking out now.

“I sssstopped trying to talk to you a long time ago. You would just... reject mmme. I couldn’t handle that from mmmy own father. So I wah-wah-walked away.” Blaine is winding down a little now, he can feel himself starting to close off and lose his momentum.

“I hear you make excuses and avoid shit. I see you walk away from opportunities because you’re too big of a coward to even try.” Another low blow, Pops, Blaine thinks. But again, he’s not surprised. He’s falling apart around the edges again and he knows he needs to get just one more thing out. One last thought before he loses it.

“If I’m a coward it’s bbbbecause you made me that way. You could have helped mah-me. You’re my ffffather. You used to st-stutter.” His voice dying out now, fading as his anger recedes into sadness and shame. “You could have helped me.”

“I believed that you needed to help yourself,” his father’s voice is filled with an emotion that Blaine can’t quite place.

“I needed you.”

~~~~~

The ride back to the house is icy to say the least. Blaine feels drunk on his emotions and just can’t wait to go crash into his bed.

He really wishes he had an iced mocha.

This is why he can never meet Kurt.

~~~~~

A moment from Blaine’s mom

Whatever happened between those two today is making this house a terribly tense place to be right now. My husband’s stormy silence is telling because he rarely makes a secret of his anger.  Bellowing is the term I like to use for the way he behaves after having a fight with one of his sons. But this is different. This is … unnerving.

I’ve tried to work as a go between, to broker a truce, but they’re both so alike when they’re being stubborn. Whatever this was, I think they’re actually embarrassed. I know what Blaine is like when he’s embarrassed, so I can say for sure that’s what this is with him. My husband is harder to pin down, he’s lost his humility somewhere along the way. But I think whatever happened today shook him to his core. And it shamed him. 

I just have a hard time imagining Blaine shaming his father. Although, if that's the case, I think I might be just a little bit proud of him. Blaine fights such unpleasant battles with the world, but the worst are always with his dad. If he, for even moment, gave the man pause, it would be such a big win for Blaine.

I have no idea how to fix this. I just know I don’t want to be around either of them right now. Where’s Cooper when I need him to even up the sides?  



	13. Chapter 12

 

  
August 16th @ 9:08 pm  
Blaine: How much chicken would be considered too much chicken?

To consume?

over the course of any given day?

Kurt: How much chicken have you eaten today, Blaine?  
Blaine: well  
    my parents are out of town  
    and I’ve been forced to fend for myself  
    and I ate  
    10 chicken McNuggets for lunch  
Kurt: that’s not bad  
Blaine: and an entire supermarket roasted chicken for dinner  
    accidentally  
Kurt: how do you accidentally eat an entire rotisserie chicken?  
Blaine: you take an 11 mile run  
    and get hungry  
Kurt: i don’t even know what to say  
    speechless  
Blaine: I really like chicken  
Kurt: apparently  
    I’ll add that to my list of things I know about you  
    “really likes chicken”  
Blaine: what else is on that list?  
Kurt: I dunno  
    stuff :D  
Blaine: you look just like me!  
    did your face get stuck too Kurt?  
Kurt: insert eye rolling font  
Blaine: aw kurt  
Kurt: When does camp end?  
Blaine: August 22nd  
Kurt: And when will you be back in NY?  
Blaine: Labor Day weekend  
    I fly out on the 30th  
    so many questions kurt!  
    so curious!  
Kurt: Just being nosy  
Blaine: i worry sometimes  
    about going back to school  
    that i might end up accidentally meeting  
     D.Marshall in real life  
Kurt: I should be *more* worried  
    I’m actually an English major  
    you’re safe and sound in education classes  
    and music theory  
    pfft  
Blaine: did you ever figure out what year she is?  
    Maybe she’ll be in your junior seminar!!  
Kurt: bite your tongue  
Blaine: it’s possible  
Kurt: i can’t even imagine her discussing the Canterbury Tales  
Blaine: I can  
    it will be an exercise of patience for everyone involved  
Kurt: i have a feeling she looks like snooki  
Blaine: Sorry.  
    I fell out of my chair laughing  
    Because I think D.Marshall probably *is* snooki  
    using a fake name  
    trolling the online classes of NYU  
Kurt: any way you cut it  
    you know D.Marshall has a terrible fake tan  
Blaine: terrible  
Kurt: so your parents are away?  
    gonna have a hot party?  
    a rager? a kegger? something involving a shot luge?

~~~~

@ 9:18 pm  
Matt: so what’s going on now?  
Blaine: i don’t know  
    we’re just talking about chicken  
Matt: chicken?  
    I’ve seen you eat an entire roast chicken in one sitting  
Blaine: yeah  
     i did that today  
Matt: Are you or are you not currently confessing your love of chicken to a complete stranger on the internet?  
Blaine: I am  
Matt: How’s he taking it?  
     how do you think he feels about your passion for chicken?  
Blaine: he seems to be accepting of it  
Matt: well that’s important  
    I’d hate to see chicken come between the two of you  
    like if he was vegan or something  
Blaine: I worry that *I’m* going to come between us  
Matt: further information needed  
Blaine: just like  
    I’m so bad at this Matt  
    I mean, not at talking to him online  
    but like meeting people  
    and not knowing what to say  
    or do, or anything  
    He probably won’t like me  
    once he meets me  
Matt: Blaaaaaiiiinnnnnneeee  
    Why do you do that? don’t do that  
Blaine: I know  
    but, if I meet him and I don’t tell him  
    about my stutter, it will be *weird*  
    or I’ll be weird and he’ll be weird  
    and everything will be bad. and weird.  
    but I don’t know how to tell him  
    before I meet him  
Matt: I repeat  
    Blaaaaiiiinnnnneee  
Blaine: yes?  
Matt: I mean, I know you need to talk about this  
    but don’t get so down on yourself  
    from what I can tell, he’s pretty into you  
    or he wouldn’t want to meet you, period.  
    and he definitely wouldn’t want to talk to you like every night for hours  
Blaine: I know  
Matt: good  
    do you really know?  
    or are you just pretending to know so I’ll shut up?  
Blaine: i guess i mostly know  
    but it doesn’t really help all the time  
    sometimes it just feels like … nothing good can come from this  
Matt: everything good could from this  
    just remember that  
    you’re a good person  
    you’re a nice guy  
    just because sometimes you have trouble talking  
    doesn’t actually change what you’re SAYING  
    and if Kurt listens to you  
    he’ll like you in real life as much as he likes you online  
    ok?  
Blaine: ok  
Matt: and if he doesn’t listen to you  
    he’s not actually worth your time  
Blaine: you sound like my brother  
Matt: your brother is obviously very, very smart  
    subject change  
    So you really think he might be the Face?  
Blaine: i don’t know  
    sometimes I’m like totally sure about it  
    other times not so much  
    why can’t you remember Rachel the barista’s roommate’s name???  
Matt: Because she talked a LOT  
    and I wasn’t actually friends with her  
    you could just ask him Blaine  
Blaine: I know  
    but I enjoy the mystery  
    sort of  
    not really, that’s a lie  
    but what would I even say?  
     how do I broach that topic with any kind of nonchalance?     
     “did you bump into a guy wearing an ugly red hat in february? He didn’t speak, but he saluted you and then ran away? Cause if so that was me!”  
Matt:  yeah, i see your point  
    kind of lamesauce  
    i get it now  
Blaine: I definitely don’t know enough about the Face to even make a decent guess  
Matt: but, as previously discussed, the Face knows enough about you  
    that if that’s who you were talking to  
    he could put the pieces together  
Blaine: I thought for sure when I sent him the candlelight version of the tuna salad song that he would immediately guess who I was  
    I feel like the Face would have guessed  
    but alas, Kurt didn’t say anything  
    so Kurt probably does not equal the Face  
Matt: or maybe he just hated the tuna song and didn’t want to bring it up  
Blaine: dude  
    he loved the tuna salad song  
    he told me  
Matt: in the little corridor  
    outside the men’s room  
    at the coffee shop  
    and your eyes lingered  
    yada  
    yada  
    yada da dot dot da doooooooo  
Blaine: hmph

~~~~~

@9:38 pm  
Kurt: So how did it go with Cooper then?  
Blaine: really, really well  
    he was like … amazing  
    it was relieving  
    For a long time, I didn’t even fully realize what a good brother Cooper is  
    but it was like my own insecurities that kept me from realizing it  
Kurt: what do you mean?  
Blaine: he’s almost 8 years older than me  
    and growing up I thought I just annoyed him  
    but the older I get, the more fun we have together  
    particularly since I left for college  
    we’ve just really been getting along  
Kurt: that’s awesome Blaine  
    I mean, I just have Finn, but I think I get it  
    there’s something about... acceptance like that  
Blaine: for sure  
Kurt: did you ask him to come over when you talk to your parents?  
Blaine: actually  
    he offered before I could even really ask  
    it was awesome  
    to feel like... supported  
Kurt: this is really good   
Blaine: it is.   
     I feel   
    well  
    not good about it  
    truth be told, i feel terrified  
    but I really do feel better knowing that Cooper is going to be there  
Kurt: that’s good Blaine  
Blaine: thank you for talking to me about this  
    i don’t really know what I would have done  
    without your help this summer  
Kurt: well probably you would have failed lit class  
    or stalked and killed D.Marshall  
    likely both  
Blaine: probably  
    that sounds like something I would do  
Kurt: before we stray too far away from this  
    this … sincerity  
    I don’t know what *I* would have done without you this summer, either  
    you made the whole thing a lot more fun  
    I probably would have actually stalked and killed D.Marshall  
Blaine: so mutual fun was had by all  
Kurt: yep  
    you’re probably blushing right?  
Blaine: yeah  
    sincerity makes me glow  
    sorry about that  
Kurt: why would you ever be sorry about blushing?  
Blaine: i have no idea  
    sometimes I make unnecessary apologies  
    which now I want to apologize for  
Kurt: VICIOUS CYCLE OF APOLOGIES  
    end it now!  
Blaine: ok  
    sorry  
    :P[](http://shandyall.livejournal.com/4558.html)@ 9:42 pm  
Matt: so now what’s happening?  
    I’m bored  
    let me live vicariously through you  
Blaine: I told him my parents are away, so he was asking if i talked them yet  
    well, first he asked if I was going to have a party  
Matt: *did* you talk them yet?  
Blaine: you would know if I talked to them  
    which is pretty much what i said to him  
    i figure I’ll take the coward’s way  
    and just like yell over my shoulder at them while getting on the plane for school  
    “OH MOM & DAD! PS I’M GAAAAAYYYYY!!!”  
Matt: you don’t even know how to yell  
    I’ve barely heard you talk above a 5 on a scale of 10  
Blaine: I talked to my parents at at least a 7 last month  
    and I got into a screaming match with my dad the other day  
Matt: With your dad?  
Blaine: Yeah  
Matt: anything you’d like to vent about?  
Blaine: It’s really really embarrassing  
    and really kind of awful  
Matt: ok, you don’t have to talk about it  
Blaine: no, I should  
    we went to get coffee  
    at a place where you have to give your name  
    and I didn’t notice  
    I wasn’t ready with a fake name  
    and i had like a panic attack  
    i couldn’t talk  
    and all the people around me thought I was having a seizure  
Matt: oh man. terrible.  
    but you’re always ready! i’ve seen you be so smooth  
    telling baristas fake names with a smile on your face  
Blaine: I know! I was getting really good at it back in NY  
    but here at home  
    i let my guard down or something  
    and poof  
    the worst happened  
Matt: so your dad got mad at you for that?  
    that’s dickish, to say the very least  
Blaine: well that’s where it started  
    but then he came out to the car  
    where i was hiding  
    and he said something stupid and mean  
    and I just freaked out  
Matt: you freaked out?  
    you?  
Blaine: i did  
    I lost it on him  
    i called him a hateful son of a bitch  
    and then I yelled at him about how he treats me  
    and about how he treats my mom  
Matt: whoa  
Blaine: he was really nasty to me  
    but at least I said what I wanted to say for so long  
    about how he could help me and doesn’t  
Matt: I’m really impressed Blaine  
    it’s actually a little unbelievable  
    you yelled?  
Blaine: YES  
    i can yell!  
    I yell at the kids at work all the time  
Matt:  fine blaine  
    I mean, I’m proud of you if you really did yell  
    but you don’t have to lie to me  
Blaine: I’m not lying  
    I’m going to call and yell at you right now  
    why must you tease me so!  
Matt: sure, sure  
    whatever you say little buddy  
Blaine: stfu  
Matt: shutting up  
Blaine: in other news  
    I did come out to Cooper   
    when I saw him  
  
@ 9:49 pm  
Blaine:    you may speak  
Matt: thank you  
    what did he say?  
Blaine: that he already kind of knew  
Matt: ah yes  
    I’m not surprised by his reaction  
    you give off a vibe  
    you’re not like super gay  
    but there’s something there  
Blaine: thanks, i guess?  
    he was cool with it  
    so that’s good  
    if my parents disown me, i still have coop  
Matt: you still have me too :)  
    you could come live in Pittsburgh  
    and share a room with my little sister  
    she has the cutest, tiniest trundle bed  
    it would be perfect for you  
    my parents wouldn’t even notice you  
    amongst their numerous other children  
Blaine: I’m not tiny  
Matt: you’re petite  
    pequeno  
Blaine: you’re an ass  
Matt: no i’m not  
    you love me  
Blaine: i love you, in spite of the fact you’re an ass  
Matt: I accept that  
    so now what’s happening?  
  
~~~~~  
  
@ 10:05 pm  
Blaine: so cooper said he’d come over  
    while I tell them  
    and at least I can always go live with him  
    if they disown me  
    disavow my existence  
    take me out of the will  
    throw me to the lions  
Kurt: if they throw you to the lions, you’ll never make it to cooper’s  
Blaine: truth  
Kurt: when are you planning on doing this?  
Blaine: they won’t be back until Monday.  
    so maybe Tuesday?  
    I’m scared  
    but i can’t keep putting it off  
    and i know as soon as I make sure cooper’s gonna be there  
    i’m gonna have to actually do it  
    like follow through with my plan  
    and not just write them a kindly worded letter once i get back to school  
    or have you write them a kindly worded letter when i get back to school  
    “Dear sir and/or madam- Your son Blaine is gay. Sincerely, Kurt Hummel”  
Kurt: I have exquisite penmanship  
Blaine: I don’t doubt it  
Kurt: so what *is* going to happen when you get back to school?  
    can we meet?  
    i mean, unless you don’t want to  
    which would be a little weird, considering how much we talk  
    but, no pressure  
Blaine: i want to  
    but kurt  
    can i get through this stuff with my parents first?  
    I almost don’t want to think about … good stuff  
    while i still need to get through this … bad stuff  
Kurt: You really think it’s going to be that bad?  
Blaine: let’s put it this way  
    things have been rocky with my dad this summer  
    and we had a crazy crazy fight before they left for their trip  
    about almost nothing  
    like literally, at the base of it, the fight was about a cup of coffee  
    an iced mocha to be exact  
Kurt: seriously?  
Blaine: that’s where it started, yeah  
    i need to wrap my head around what might happen here  
    and i really want to meet you  
    and i’m nervous as hell about it (in a good way)  
    but i’m even more nervous about coming out to my parents  
    and there’s only so much nervousness I have to go around  
Kurt: I get it blaine  
    thanks for explaining it to me  
Blaine: it’s the least I can do  
Kurt: do you promise to tell me how it goes?  
    good, bad or lions?  
Blaine: I promise.  
  
~~~~~  
  
@ 10:26 pm  
Rachel: I can hear you sighing loudly  
Kurt: for the love of God rachel  
    you could just come in here and talk to me  
Rachel: I’m feeling lazy  
Kurt: fine  
    I think we had a moment  
    Blaine and I  
Rachel: ooh-la-la!  
    of cybersex?!?  
Kurt: could you be more inappropriate?  
    we were just talking about meeting  
    well, i was  
    and he was semi-blowing me off again  
    but i think i get it  
Rachel: You really like him huh?  
Kurt: i do actually  
    I just can’t figure out … what he wants?  
Rachel: maybe he just doesn’t know  
Kurt: He’s always telling me he’s shy and nervous in real life  
    but it’s almost hard to believe  
    because he’s so... winsome online  
    i mean, he’s a total dork  
    but he’s funny and smart  
    and i’m so weirdly attracted to this guy I’ve never even met  
Rachel: Maybe he’s fugly  
    (I had to go look up winsome. where the hell did you find that word?)  
Kurt: It’s Blaine’s fault! My increasing vocabulary is his fault!  
    that’s just what he’s like!  
    and all those stupid fake curses  
    cheese on a cracker and shit like that  
Rachel: well obviously he’s a terrible influence on you  
    walk away Kurt, don’t ever look back  
Kurt: ya know, it’s weird  
    I don’t really think much about what he looks like  
    I mean, i’ve *wondered*  
    but not as much as you might assume  
    I guess because he’s so cute, personality wise  
    I can’t imagine him not at least being a cute person  
    even if he was sort of fugly  
    like his personality is so appealing to me  
    his physical attractiveness might not matter  
Rachel: huh. That’s interesting  
    I’m impressed Kurt  
Kurt: Because usually I’m a superficial bitch or something?  
Rachel: no, I didn’t mean that at all  
    but you’re very earnest right now  
    not being sarcastic or flippant  
    this is why I love you  
    I mean, i love you when you’re a bitch too  
    that’s half the fun  
    but i love seeing this side of you too :)  
Kurt: aw, you’re nice!  
    i love when you’re nice  
    and not being stupid, vain or obnoxiously competitive!  
Rachel: yay for our good qualities!  
Kurt: dance party later to celebrate being decent people!  
Rachel: um, i’m dancing right now  
    you’re not dancing?  
    ANYWAY  
Kurt: smh  
    he really kind of laid out why he’s not ready to meet  
    and I think I sort of get it  
    but I always feel like he’s... withholding something  
    there’s just no way to figure out what  
    if he’s hiding something, he’s doing a really good job  
Rachel: can I see?  
    what you guys have been talking about?  
    maybe i can help  
Kurt: I guess  
    I mean it’s all pretty personal for him  
    and if anything ever comes of us, you can never EVER tell him I let you read our im’s  
    but I really do need to talk to someone about it  
Rachel: please kurt, pretty pretty please!!!  
Kurt: I’m not cutting and pasting  
    you may come in and read over my shoulder.  
Rachel: fine.  
    but i’m bringing my dance party with me.  
Rachel signed off @ 10:34 pm  



	14. Chapter 13

It takes Blaine almost another week to find the courage to finally talk to his parents. He leaves for school in 8 days and he’s starting to feel like it’s now or never. He asks Cooper to come over for dinner and he texts Kurt.

\-----------  
6:14 pm  
Blaine: Doing it tonight. telling them.

6:18 pm  
Kurt: Good luck. come online after if you want/need to talk.

6:20 pm  
Blaine: I’m scared. I don’t know if I can do it.

6:25 pm  
Kurt: Just be honest. you can do it.

6:26 pm  
Blaine: Thanks Kurt

6:28 pm  
Kurt: Anytime  
\-----------

After his father retires to the living room and Blaine finishes helping his mom clean up, he asks her if he could talk them, together. She gives him a questioning look, but follows him into the other room. Cooper comes in behind them and gives Blaine’s shoulders a squeeze as he sits down on the piano bench.

Blaine stays standing, hoping it doesn’t look like he wants to run out of the room. Even if that is exactly what he wants to do.

His hands are clammy and stomach is churning. But it’s now or never. And Cooper’s here.

“I, I wanted to tt-tell you guys something, “ Blaine starts. He takes a deep breath and starts the very short speech that he’s been practicing with Paula.

“I’m sssscared to tell you, but I really nah-need to bah-bah-be honest. I don’t want you to be mmmad at mmmme, bbbbut I understand if you are. Cooper told me I could stay with him tonight if, if, if I need to. If you dah-don’t wwwant me here.” He isn’t sure why he added that last part, maybe he just needed to say it for himself, to remember that he doesn’t have to stay here if things go wrong. Or maybe he just needed his parents to know that Cooper had already picked a side.

Deep breath. In and out. He looks at his parents then, sitting on the couch. His father’s eyes actually looking at Blaine, focused on him, his mother’s face more than a bit confused. His heart is about to pound out his chest. He looks at Cooper, who gives him a nod.

Now or never.

“So, I’m gay,” he finally says, much, much louder than he intended to. (In the back of his mind, he looks forward to telling Matt that he yelled. But that’s for later.)

His father leans his elbows on his knees, his lips pursed, brows furrowed, eyes staring out the picture window to the settling twilight in the front yard. He holds that pose, for nearly a minute. The room is tense, as though everyone is waiting for his dad’s reaction. Blaine sees him take a deep breath and then stand. His eyes follow his father’s back, as it travels across the room and disappears up the stairs. Blaine’s not sure what to think of that. He turns his attention to his mother, who’s gazing down, with her fist pressed to her mouth.

She looks up at Blaine, removes her hand from her face, stands up and smiles. It’s a little forced, but Blaine isn’t sure if that’s because of his declaration or because of his father’s weird behavior. She closes the distance to Blaine and rests her hand on his cheek and stares into his eyes. “Thank you Blaine. For being honest. I know that wasn’t easy. I don’t really know what to say, except I love you very, very much, no matter what.” 

Blaine starts to cry then. He’s just so relieved and at least, if nothing else, his mother still loves him. He’s not entirely sure his father even loved him before tonight, but he was honestly worried about losing his mother’s love. He can handle this. This can be ok. He has no idea what to think of his father’s reaction, but if his mom’s ok, then maybe everything will be ok.

“I think maybe you should go out with Cooper and I’ll go talk to your father,” she says next.

“Are you sha-sure? Are you sure I should l-l-l-leave? Is this going to bbbbe ok? What do you think...” He can’t stop asking questions, each one higher pitched and more tear-filled than the next, but the last one is stuck in throat. He wanted to say “what do you think he’s going to do to me?” but the question is almost as scary as what the answer might be.

“I think your father’s expectations of you, both of you, have always been extreme and I think he needs some time to cool off. I’m not afraid of him, Blaine. You know that right? He can be moody, but he’s never done anything to me that makes me fear him. He’s only a man.” And Blaine believes his mother. He has no cause to doubt her.

“Do you wwwwant to come with us?” He looks over to Cooper, for approval. And of course Cooper’s nodding. It’s then that he joins their little huddle in the middle of the living room, snaking an arm around each of them.

“Whatever you want to do, Mom,” Cooper agrees.

“I want to stay here and try to talk to your father and I want you boys to go to the movies. Or bowling. When was the last time you went bowling? I’ll call you as soon as I can and let you know what I think we should do.”

With that, she kisses each of her sons on the cheek and then traces her husband’s footsteps up the stairs. The brothers stand for a moment listening to whisper of footsteps above their heads.

When they hear the door to their parents bedroom creak open, Blaine and Cooper silently agree to slip out the door.

“I can’t believe she didn’t give us any money,” Cooper whispers as they exit.

“Sssseriously, I think this is the f-f-first time I’ve ever left this house without her ssslipping me at least a 10,” Blaine agrees. He’s shaking, his teeth are chattering a bit, but he’s mostly stopped crying. He’s just happy that Cooper said something normal to him. Something that has nothing to do with everything that just happened in the living room.

They drive around for a while, not really sure what to do with themselves. Blaine thinks Cooper realizes he needs some time to compose himself. Cooper stops at McDonalds and tells Blaine to wait in the car. He comes back out with a 20 piece chicken nugget, two sodas and a couple of wet paper towels for Blaine to wipe his face with.

“Th-thanks Coop. I don’t think I wwwwould have ever found the guts to do that if you wwweren’t there.” Blaine wipes his eyes, feeling better. Honestly feeling better, despite whatever fallout might still be in store.

Cooper nods, looking out the windshield, a far-away look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Dad reacted like that Blaine. I wish, I wish I could have said something, stopped him, forced to him to be a father instead of a fucking douchebag. He’s never a father when we need him to be.”

Blaine’s surprised by how angry Cooper is. He’s surprised by how invested he is.

“I don’t know what he’s up to. I just wish Mom would call.”

“I know. Tha-thanks for the nuggets.”

“No prob, B. I know how chicken soothes you and you barely ate any dinner,” Cooper says, turning to smile at Blaine.

They stay like that, for a while, in the dark of the car, eating chicken nuggets. Finally Cooper’s cell phone rings.  He basically says “Mom? Yeah? Huh. That’s... surprising. I’ll tell him. We will. Yes. Love you too. Bye.”

Blaine is almost as nervous to hear what just happened during that phone call as he was about coming out. He looks at Cooper, waiting for his fate.

“She says he wasn’t mad. When she went into their room, he was crying. She said that he wants to talk to you, but not tonight. She said we should go to the movies and that I should bring you home after. And that you shouldn’t be scared.”

Cooper exhales the breath he’s been holding all night.

Blaine exhales the breath he’s been holding his whole life.

~~~~~

Now what?

He knows he needs to text Kurt.

~No, he wants to call him.~

~He can’t call him.~

~He’s pretty much decided he should never even meet him. ~

And this shit just got real. 

He still has to deal with his dad. 

~He could just call Kurt up.~

~And tell him everything.~

~Just everything .~

He has no idea what’s going to happen with his dad.

But after that, life feels like his to live. 

He’s going to get to meet Kurt. 

~He can never meet Kurt, though .~

He never even let himself get this far. 

~Kurt won’t want someone like Blaine around.~

~Someone who can’t.~

~Someone who doesn’t.~

~Kurt needs someone who’s more than Blaine could ever be.~

He was so focused on the bad that could happen, 

~He could write him a letter~  

that he was completely blind to the good that could also be on the horizon.

~but he’ll never have the nerve to send it .~

\-----------  
 _ 8:32 pm _  
Blaine: No lions.

8:34 pm  
Kurt: Are you ok? I was worried.

8:37 pm  
Blaine: i’m ok  
Blaine: it went ok, I’m out with cooper because my mom wanted to talk to my dad  
Blaine: She took it amazingly well. my dad fled the scene. It was weird. I feel weird.  
Blaine: we’re at the movies but I’ll try to tell you more later

8:40pm  
Kurt: sure, keep me posted

~~~~~

The next morning, Blaine and his dad sit at the kitchen table.

Blaine tries to hide the tremors in his hands.

“I know you need to be getting to an appointment with Paula, so I’ll keep this brief. I’m sorry about my behavior last night. I wasn’t angry. I was upset. When I looked in your eyes, all I saw was earnestness and hope. And I realized that those are the things I always see in your eyes. I was at a crossroads last night. Initially, I had these thoughts of telling you to leave, to get out of our house, to never come back. But I don’t want to be estranged from you. I don’t want to push you away. This is my issue, not yours.”

Blaine just blinks. Rapidly. He can’t say a word. He’s staring at his father and for the first time in their relationship, it seems like it’s his father that can’t meet Blaine’s eyes, rather than the other way around.

“I am so very sorry about what happened in the car a few weeks ago. I should have never spoken to you like that. I am so... ashamed about everything I said to you. Over the years, I have wanted to apologize for so many things, but none more so than what I said to you in the car. I am inconsiderate, and selfish, and a son of a bitch and it was about time someone finally called me out on it. I just wish I had handled so many things differently. I wish I could have been there for you when you needed me.”

Blaine nods, because he knows he needs to react somehow, but this shocking turn of events is difficult to process.  

“I have no idea if I can ever repair our very damaged relationship,” his father continues, “but I am willing to try, if you would be willing to let me. It might take me awhile to accept this. If you give me time, I will do my best.  I’m not sure how I feel about your... sexuality. But that doesn’t mean,” here his father pauses, dropping his eyes to the table. It’s a long pause. When he looks up, his eyes are wet with tears, “it doesn’t mean I don’t love you Blaine. It doesn’t mean that I don’t want good things for you. It might not be perfect, but it’s all I have to offer.”

For the first time in his life, Blaine is speechless and it has nothing to do with his stutter.

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

It’s been over a week.

I haven’t heard from him.

At first, I wanted to give him space.

So I didn’t text, or email, or call.

I feel like it’s too late now.

Like he should have gotten in touch with me.

He said he’d get in touch with me.

He’s back in the city by now

Or what if he’s not back in the city?

What if something really bad happened?

And I’ll never know...

But I don’t want to bother him, if he’s dealing with something.

Why won’t he let me help?

I’m worried.

And I miss him.

So much.

~~~~~

Blaine only knows how to  want good things. He doesn’t know how to  have  them.


	15. Chapter 14

 

  
To: Blaine, From: Kurt   
Date: Mon, Sept. 1st 8:48 pm  
Subject: Please

I don’t know what happened Blaine, but at least let me know that you’re ok.

~~~~~

Sept 1 @ 9:32 pm  
Blaine: What the hell am I going to do?  
Matt: are you legitimately im-ing from the room?  
    why don’t you just come out to the lounge?  
Blaine: who’s out there?  
Matt:  kerry, morgan  
    that weird guy from the third floor  
Blaine: the bongo player?  
Matt: his roommate  
Blaine: hell no  
    i need to actually talk to you about this  
    not listen to that guy play the lute  
Matt: ok fine  
    but for the record, he’s playing the autoharp tonight  
    i could come in the room  
Blaine: no  
    I think  
    i might do a better job typing about this  
Matt: you’re call  
    i’m in  
    tell me your troubles, B-money  
Blaine: he emailed me  
Matt: bout damn time somebody made a move  
    it should have been you  
    but I admire his chutzpah  
    what did he say?  
Blaine: “I don’t know what happened Blaine, but please just let me know that you’re ok. ”  
Matt: that’s it?  
Blaine: yes  
    now i feel guilty  
Matt: you should feel guilty  
    you should have talked to him last week  
Blaine: i know  
    but  
Matt: but nothing  
    this guy likes you  
    don’t dick him around  
Blaine: i’m not dicking him around  
Matt:  you kind of are  
    from his view, you definitely are  
Blaine: i just  
    don’t know  
    how to fix  
    any of this  
Matt: ok  
    that’s fair  
    to a point  
    but sometimes it’s not about knowing, it’s about doing  
Blaine: what the hell does that even mean?  
Matt: like, stop over thinking shit  
    he likes your weirdo ass  
Blaine: he likes my weirdo ass when i’m witty and verbose and winsome  
    when in reality i’m none of those  
Matt: I just looked up winsome  
    you’re totally winsome  
Blaine: thank you matt  
    but i highly doubt it  
    you know  
    you’ve seen me  
    try to talk to people  
    it mostly ends in embarrassment  
    for everyone involved  
    and those usually aren’t people I’m attracted to  
    those are just average run of the mill people  
Matt: you wanna get drunk and try to call him?  
Blaine: did you really just propose drunk dialing the man i might be in love with?  
Matt: wow  
    big talk/type blaine  
    when did you start talking love?  
Blaine: I was being dramatic  
    and I said “might”  
Matt: in any event  
    it’s an option  
    you’re 99 times more confident when you’re shitfaced  
Blaine: sigh  
    no  
Matt: i know  
    you really do need to get over yourself  
Blaine: i’m totally over myself  
    i’m so over myself, i don’t even know me  
    i can’t even see me  
    or something  
Matt: no, you’re not  
    you pretend you are  
    but you’re scared  
Blaine: i’m terrified  
Matt: at least you can admit it  
Blaine: i can definitely admit it  
    can admitting it be half the battle?  
Matt: not sure if that works in this case  
Blaine: yeah  
    not when the other half is actually doing something about this  
    this is so fucked up  
    how did this get so fucked up?  
Matt: i could give you the reader’s digest version  
    but i don’t want you to cry  
    again  
Blaine: i just never thought i’d be in this situation  
    i mean  
    he’s here  
    i’m here  
    same place  
    we could just be together  
Matt: i’m pretty sure it’s your fault  
    that you aren’t  
Blaine: for my whole life  
    i’ve put up these obstacles  
    like, i can’t do that because I stutter  
    or I can’t do that because my parents will be mad  
    or if I do that something bad will happen  
    but i’m my own roadblock here  
Matt: you are  
    i’m glad you can see that  
Blaine: can you help me matt?  
Matt: of course  
    how?  
Blaine: i don’t know  
    but i need help  
Matt: when you figure it out  
    let me know  
Blaine: i will  
    what are you guys watching out there?  
Matt: the eleventy billionth season of The Real World  
    is it possible this is in Singapore?  
Blaine: I highly doubt that

@ 10:13 pm  
Matt: you could text him  
    and ask him to meet you at open mic night this week  
    you could pick out the perfect song  
    and sing it to him

@ 10:19 pm  
Blaine: i could do that!  
    i could actually do that!  
Matt: i know  
    that’s why i suggested it  
    you’re really quite good at it :)  
Blaine: where’s my ipod?  
    on your desk?  
Matt: uhhhhhh  
    i may have given it to kerry  
Blaine: eff you  
    get it back  
Matt: right now?  
Blaine: isn’t she sitting right there?  
    just ask for it back  
Matt: Blaine, this is kerry  
    matt gave me your ipod as a sign of his undying love  
    he just failed to mention that it was yours  
    but your taste in music is awesome  
Blaine: thank you kerry  
Matt: this is still kerry  
    but it was a false gift  
    so tell your roommate that he and i are getting divorced  
Blaine: i will relay the message  
    can you bring me my ipod/your false gift?  
Matt: she’s currently walking down the hall  
    i no longer have a visual  
Blaine: that’s cause she’s here  
Matt: do you have your precious ipod back?Blaine: I do  
    scrolling  
    scrolling  
Matt: you know  
    you didn’t have to ruin my game  
    you could have gone through the music on your comp  
    and kerry and i would still be married  
Blaine: I could have  
    but it would still be MY ipod  
    and eventually matt  
    she would have learned  
    that it was a “false gift”  
Matt: too true  
    what are you coming up with?  
Blaine: kingdom come by coldplay?  
Matt: come blaine? you really want to go there already?  
    jeez  
    so horny  
Blaine: i will stab you in your sleep for ruining that song  
Matt: promises, promises  
Blaine: I just didn’t think it would turn out like this  
    I don’t know how i thought it would turn out  
    I guess I thought I’d be brave?  
    but instead i’m dicking around a guy I really like  
    for no good reason  
    Am I currently cockblocking myself?  
Matt: i think you are  
    that’s terrible  
Blaine: I’m a terrible human being  
    I don’t even know how to like someone without ruining both of our lives  
    he should just run screaming now  
    i should come with a warning label  
    “don’t bother. This guy is an asshole.”  
Matt: Blaaaaaaiiiiinnnnnne  
    you’re doing that thing again  
    the self doubt and ridiculous self deprecation  
Blaine: I know  
    welcome to my world  
    have a shitty time :(  
Matt: Blaaaaaaaiiiiiinnnnnneee  
    stop. be cool.  
    you’re a good boy.  
    and a very good friend, I’ll have you know.  
    if you let him get to know you in real life, he’ll like you even more  
Blaine: I sort of, kind of believe you  
Matt: now let us get back to the task of wooing Kurt  
    and reminding him why he liked you in the first place, shall we?  
    what about that Rosie Thomas song you like?  
    “i’m wandering, i’m crawling”  
    i can’t think of the title  
Blaine: that might be good  
    it’s not a great key for me  
    but i could rearrange it  
Matt: there’s gotta be others  
    desperately wanting by better than ezra?  
Blaine: that’s one of those songs with a good title  
    but the lyrics don’t quite fit  
    we’ve definitely never run through the wet grass together  
Matt: you’ll find something  
    i know it  
Blaine: but like  
    not to change the subject  
    i’m so dumb, because even if my dad was that pissed at me when I came out  
    i still could have started a relationship with kurt  
    and now that my dad’s not pissed  
    and he’s accepting of me, kind of, sort of  
    i should be really happy to start something with kurt  
    and instead of like letting him meet me, i’m being a tool  
Matt: you really are being a tool  
    but the crux of the situation, is that you’re not naturally a tool  
    you can overcome this toolishness!  
    it’s toolishness of your own making!  
Blaine: I started writing him a letter  
Matt: how very elizabethan  
Blaine: I’m serious  
    i know I’ll never get through what I want to say  
    what I need to say  
    so i started writing it  
    the day after i came out  
Matt: you could get through saying it  
    you could try  
    i think you could do it  
Blaine: maybe  
    but i don’t want to chance it  
Matt: ok, i can see that  
Blaine: is a letter too much?  
Matt: what does it say?  
Blaine: I don’t know  
Matt: how do you not know?  
Blaine: fine, you’re right, obviously I know  
    It says that I stutter  
    and it talks about how I put up walls  
    that I’m terrified of like, pretty much everything  
    but that he changed my life, just by sending me an email  
    how hard it was to hide things from him, when I wanted to tell him everything  
    I wrote about what happened when I came out and why I stopped talking to him  
    it’s not finished yet  
    i need to add an apology obviously  
    and maybe some stuff about how I’m not generally an assclown  
Matt: that sounds kind of beautiful  
    and you aren’t generally an assclown  
    that’s what makes this is so hard to watch  
Blaine: It’s hard to watch?  
Matt: of course  
    you’re miserable  
    and I don’t even know this guy  
    and I feel really bad for him  
Blaine: I suck at life.  
Matt: it’s ok  
    you’ll figure this out  
    we’ll figure it out  
    i think  
    if nothing else the letter could be …  
    what’s that c word that’s kind of like catheter?  
Blaine: cathartic?  
Matt: CATHARTIC  
    you need to have a catharsis about kurt  
    A KURTHARSIS  
Blaine: so far, writing it *has been* cathartic  
    that makes an awful lot of sense  
    coming from a guy who just confused cathartic and catheter  
    and then created a portmanteau of Kurt and catharsis  
Matt: thank you  
    you and your fancy schmancy words  
    are you crying blaine?  
Blaine: um  
    no  
Matt: it’d be really good  
    if you could cry while you were writing the letter  
    and let your tear drops fall on it  
    it would heartfelt  
    and literally tearful  
Blaine: smh  
Matt: you love it  
    i’ll help you  
    i’ll tickle you until you cry  
Blaine: oh, no  
    please don’t  
Matt: i think you need cheering up  
Blaine: oh God help me  
Matt: i’m comin’ atcha blaine anderson  
Blaine: i’m going to hide  
Matt: you’ll never make it  
Blaine: are you typing and running down the hall at the same time?  
Matt: I am  
Blaine: i’m so scared!!!!  
Matt: no blaine, this is going to be wonderful  
Blaine: terrifying  
Matt: i’m heerrrrrrrreeeee  
Blaine: q5jiop’ihtoqw’ esr.?ks;.  
  
~~~~~  
  
@ 11:58 pm  
Matt: are you cheered up?  
Blaine: are you im’ing me while we’re in the same room?  
Matt: obviously  
    such a stupid question Blaine  
Blaine: I am cheered up  
    definitely  
    thanks  
Matt: good  
    now stop being an assclown and do something about your boy  
Blaine: yes sir.  
Matt: also i think when we’re done wooing Kurt  
    you should help me woo Kerry  
    You’re not allowed to give me judgmental looks while we’re im-ing  
Blaine: that wasn’t judgmental  
    that was just “you’re mental”  
    of course I’ll help  
    it’s the least I can do  
Matt: it really is  
    seeing as how benevolent and helpful I am  
  
~~~~~  
  
To: Kurt, From: Blaine  
Date: Tues, Sept. 2nd 1:36 am  
Subject: Re: Please  
  
I’m ok. I just... need a little more time.


	16. Chapter 15

 

  
Blaine sleepwalks through the next day.

After chatting with Matt and emailing Kurt back in the middle of the night, he just couldn’t fall asleep. Instead he tossed and turned until the sun came up. He tiptoed out of the room and went for a jog. It’s not going to solve all of his problems, but running always clears his head.

He watches the city wake up, the gates coming up on stores and delis. He jogs past the coffee shop and sees a sign for open mic night. Friday is getting close and he still needs to pick a song for Kurt. He also needs to work up the nerve to ask Kurt to meet him. He plans to text Kurt sometime, but the whole idea is terrifying and has too many variables.

He really needs to make all this up to Kurt. He knows he’s being an asshole. He knows he was sort of leading Kurt on, but he knows that it wasn’t his intention. Blaine is so insecure about himself, that he never thought about how he might be making Kurt feel. And pretty much that’s what makes him an asshole, his inability to see outside of himself. He never knew he had such potential for asshole-ish-ness. Must have inherited it from his dad.

That’s not fair though. They might not see eye to eye and Blaine doubts he’ll be able to really trust his father any time soon, but his dad does appear to be trying. After that morning at breakfast, it seemed like he smiled more, which is never a bad thing. And he called Blaine himself the other day to ask how his flight was. It’s progress. It’s not perfect, but they’re moving towards something, an understanding, a mutually agreed upon neutral space.

Blaine likes to think that this change is in his father is really a harbinger of all the good things that could happen in his life. He’s so close to fixing this stuff with Kurt. He knows he can do it. If he can put stuff back together with his father, he can put stuff back together with Kurt.

Off and on during class that day, through bleary eyes, he works on his letter, adding things, subtracting things, changing things. He spends some time that evening rewriting it neatly, knowing he’s going to have the opportunity to give it to Kurt someday. It’s not finished just yet, but it’s getting closer. He’s not sure what else he needs to write, but there’s more that needs to be said.

He’s formulating a plan with Matt. Blaine thinks (hopes, wishes, prays) that it will work. And even just knowing that he’s going to try makes him sleep better the next night.

~~~~~

Blaine leaves for class a bit early the next day so he can take a detour to the English building. He knows playing the piano for a while will help and sometimes that’s where he does his best thinking. If nothing else, it always eases his nerves. He’s surprised to find that someone tuned the piano over the summer. Blaine had sort of believed he was the only person who even knew it was there.

He touches the keys lovingly and settles into a comfortable place on the bench. Blaine inhales deeply and starts playing. He plays any and every song he can think of. He lets himself go with the music, not thinking at all, just appreciating the fact this is something he can do. All of Blaine’s walls fall down when he plays music and it’s no different right now. He relaxes into the whole experience. He starts in on a long, delicate version of the tuna salad song, the slowed down, piano version, (because there’s something about the melody that he just loves) and a minute later someone says his name behind him.

He was so deep into the music he didn’t even hear the door. He freezes for a moment and then stands up too fast, knocking over the bench, feeling clumsy and embarrassed. He feels even more embarrassed when he turns around and meets a pair of blue eyes.

Those pale blue eyes.

Blaine desperately wants to crawl in a hole.

Because the Face knows his name. He’s momentarily so confused he can’t process what the Face is saying. The Face just said his name, how does The Face know his name is Blaine? How did that happen?

He can’t. He can’t be saying these words. Blaine can hardly hear what The Face is saying over the rush in his own ears, but this is Kurt. This isn’t right. This can’t be happening.

Breathe.  
One in, one out.  
Blink.  
Fists clench, unclench.  
Jaws clench, unclench.  
Breathe again.  
Blink 5 times in a row really fast.  
Pinch self, on off chance this is a fever dream.

Breathe.  
Blink.

Blaine is in a full on panic. The Face really is Kurt. Kurt from online.

Kurt, who Blaine has fallen so in love with this summer.

Kurt, who has no idea about Blaine’s speech.

Kurt, who Blaine has been a total asshole to lately.

It’s too soon. He’s not ready. He wasn’t ready for it to happen right now. And he really can’t believe that Kurt would even want to speak to him. He feels like he’s being ambushed, but that’s not Kurt’s fault. This is his own fault. How is this happening?

It’s just too much. And the Face, KURT, is leaving. Kurt is turning away from him. He’s got to make a noise, at least a sound. He needs to say something.

He wants to say:

Please don’t go.

You could never bother me.

I like you.

I’m so stupid.

I’m so sorry.

I miss you so much.

I can’t believe you’re The Face.

It’s nice to meet you, Kurt.

Any one of those phrases might work. But not when they’re all trying to get out of his mouth at the same time. He’s grasping for something, anything.

He clears his throat. At least it’s a noise. At least Kurt will know he’s alive.

He tries again, and the noise is much louder this time. He finally breaks the block that formed, but the words are going to be choppy at best. He won’t be able to look anywhere near those eyes if he wants to get the words out, so he trains his gaze into the corner of the room.

“H-h-how ddddid you know?” Some words finally tumble out. That’s not exactly what he wanted to say, but it will do.

“I actually wasn’t sure until I just heard someone playing that song and then saw it was you. That’s the tuna salad song, right?”

Blaine laughs at this, or at least he tries to. It’s a terrible noise, mirthless, even though he’s happy to hear that Kurt recognized the song. He’s pleased to realize that Kurt followed his trail of music into this room. He’s relieved to know that Kurt doesn’t hate him so much that he would just ignore something that he associated with Blaine.

Blaine is also well aware that it’s his turn to speak. To explain. To say... something.

“I ddddddidn’t w-want you to know. To know that I ssstuttered. I w-w...” I wanted for once in my life to have someone who liked me for me. I loved having a person that knew me for more than how I sound. For the first time, the way I spoke had nothing to do with the impression I made.  He’ll never be able to say all that. He has the letter though. He could give Kurt the letter. But Matt. Matt said Blaine should try to talk. So he continues.

“I knew... I-I-I knew that when I mmmmm-et you, I wouldn’t be able to tttalk. That all mmmmm-my words would get stuck. Blah-blah-ocked.” It’s getting worse instead of better. He’s blushing now, and he can feel some of his ticks start. He repeats the word “Blocked,” but he’s not sure why, except that he just wanted to get it out, without stuttering. He needed a small victory right now.

He can feel Kurt looking at him, taking him in, for all his flaws. Kurt, finally seeing him for the shy and inarticulate (and terrified) boy that he is, instead of the clever and joking (and winsome) man he was online. He can’t look up. He can’t.

 _Kurt_ can see _Blaine_.

Kurt _can see_ Blaine.

When Blaine feels a warm hand on his shoulder, he involuntarily tenses and Kurt pulls away too soon. He liked that hand, it felt nice, but it’s just a friendly hand, maybe even a pitying hand. He knows what’s coming. Probably something along the lines of “Nice knowing you. See ya around, hopefully never.” Maybe with kinder words, because Kurt was at least his friend for a little while, but the sentiment will be the same. This is what Blaine’s been avoiding. It’s so clear to him now. He’s so stupid, he wanted to blow Kurt off before Kurt could blow him off. That’s all. He wanted some power for once.

He’s shoving his hands through his hair, he knows he probably looks crazy, but he needs to try to gain a little control. He needs to at least be able to walk out of this room with a shred of dignity intact. He inhales deeply and looks right at Kurt. (Small victories. Keep it up, Blaine.)

“Sorry,” Blaine mumbles, “I didn’t mean...” I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to be me. I didn’t mean to be someone else entirely all summer. I didn’t mean to trick you into liking me. I didn’t mean for you to ever see me for who I really am. Not like this, caught unaware, with my guard down. With my mask tossed aside because I was here alone in my fortress of music.

Blaine isn’t even sure where he wanted that sentence to go. But it’s blocked now. So he just shakes his head and gestures towards his mouth, hoping Kurt might understand. And give him a little bit of patience. Please be patient, Kurt. Please don’t be snarky or sarcastic or flippant, not right now.

Blaine begs Kurt, with his eyes. He pleads with him, to say something, to put him out of his misery. Maybe then at least Blaine will be able to get on with his somewhat lonely little life. But at least he’ll know.

“I won’t think of them as blocks, Blaine. I’ll think of them as … interludes.”

Interludes.

The word is stuck in Blaine’s head like a song he only heard once but longs to hear again.

Interludes.

That sounds so much nicer than stuttering and blocks and the horrible feeling in his chest when his mouth refuses to work.

Kurt said “won’t.”  He said he won’t think of them as blocks. That means will not. Future tense. Kurt sees them in the future. Blaine knows he needs to get out of this room before he does something humiliating like hug this wonderful almost stranger who just filled up his heart with hope.

Ok, settle down cowboy. You need to get out of here. Thank him for being kind.

“No-no-no one has ever ss-sah-sah-said anything that nice to mmme. Be-be-be-be-fore.”

Well that was dorky, depressing and not even close to what you actually wanted to say. It might be sort of sadly true, but you don’t say stuff like that. Just get out of here before you make it worse.

He tells Kurt he has class and then Blaine walks out of the piano room. He knows that he shouldn’t leave things like this. But if he stays any longer, he’s going to say something even more dorky and depressing.  He leans on the wall around the corner to catch his breath. He just needs a minute to collect himself. (The small loser voice is also telling him that he really does need to get to class, it is only the second day of school after all.) He knows that he should say something else though. Something about wanting to see Kurt again. He needs to give him the letter.

He pulls it out of his wallet. The letter that he’s been writing to Kurt for the past week, that he’s poured so much into and isn’t even finished yet. He finds a marker and scrawls a note across the front of it. He needs Kurt to know what’s going on. He needs to apologize. And at least Kurt might see now that Blaine isn’t such a bad guy.

Just misunderstood. Just unsure.

He runs back into the room where Kurt has taken a seat on the piano bench and hands him the letter. He really does plan on getting in touch with Kurt soon. He smiles weakly and leaves the room again, making it to class in the nick of time. Not that he hears one word the professor says. His head is swimming with thoughts of Kurt.

His whole mind is full of Kurt and the phrase “... I’ll think of them as interludes.”

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

Blaine’s whole demeanor changes after Kurt says the word interludes. He’s looking at Kurt curiously now, his face finally relaxed. His body language just a little more open. He’s still obviously nervous and so very shy. So very shy that Kurt just wants to hug him and tell him it’s all going to be ok.  He knows what’s inside of Blaine and he likes him. (Hugging is for later. LATER KURT. Not yet.)

Blaine blinks at Kurt some more. Kurt’s beginning to think that Blaine says more with his eyes and blinking than anyone else on earth. He’s saying something now, but Kurt isn’t attune yet. Kurt wishes he was attune. He hopes Blaine will give him a chance to learn his language.

“No-no-no one has ever ss-sah-sah-said anything that nice to mmme. Be-be-be-be-fore.”

What? Kurt suddenly feels like crying.

No really. What? Kurt had a feeling that Blaine had a sort of an unhappy life, but really? Something is wrong with this world, if Kurt’s tiny little sentiment is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to Blaine Anderson. Why aren’t you allowed to hug people you just met in real life?? Why!?!

“I-I-I have class,” Blaine continues and this time Kurt can see something in Blaine’s eyes that says he doesn’t really want to walk away, but that he needs to. A little bit of desperation, the tiniest shred of hope, and something like sadness, but not quite.

“Ok.” Kurt is so stunned by the whole scene, that he just lets Blaine leave then with a wave of his hand.

Kurt stands in the empty room for a second. He’s not quite sure what to do with himself now. He’s supposed to meet Rachel for lunch soon, but his mind is whirling and he isn’t mentally prepared for Rachel and her … Rachel-osity. Kurt decides to come up with a plan, a course of action to see Blaine again. He rights the piano bench and sits down to think the whole situation over.

This was a seriously unexpected turn of events. He knew when he heard that song, that whoever was in this room was more than likely Blaine. Online Blaine, who had pretty much been blowing him off for the past couple of weeks. He was really surprised when it all came together in his mind that Blaine was the guy from last year. From the coffee shop, from the salute in the street, The Silent Stranger with the cute ass. He was surprised that he hadn’t put it together sooner.

Kurt wondered a few times over the summer if they might be one in the same. But that would have been weird. Like really weird and Kurt almost didn’t want to consider it. When Blaine/The Silent Stranger sent him that gorgeous snippet of song this summer, he knew it was familiar, but it never really clicked that such a pretty little song was the same as the hilariously funny tuna salad ballad that the boys sang at open mic.

But now that Kurt really has a moment to consider this, and think about the facts, he feels pretty stupid actually. Blaine often mentioned things that should have stood out, but didn’t really, because Kurt wrote them off as mere coincidence. A roommate named Matt? Lots of people have roommates named Matt. He likes to run? Well, New York is full of joggers. He plays piano and guitar? Again, not exactly screaming “hey, it’s that guy you sort of crushed on from afar!” Except that it is. Which is … something else.

Kurt is actually still really worried about Blaine. He seemed so upset by the whole scene that just occurred. Kurt’s empathy meter is topped out and he honestly has no idea how to proceed. He really wants to talk to Blaine again, but he wonders about what Blaine wants. He understands that Blaine is shy and insecure and nervous about stuttering, but Kurt ultimately worries that Blaine might think that Kurt isn’t a nice enough person to accept him for his perceived flaws.

When Kurt really thinks about what he said to Blaine this summer, Blaine has every right to believe that Kurt might not be the nicest guy. Or the most patient. Kurt was downright nasty at times, bitching about people at work and D.Marshall and Rachel and he’s pretty sure he said something awful about Finn that Blaine could totally misconstrue...

All of this floods through his mind in a matter of minutes and Kurt is quite shocked when the door re-opens and Blaine comes back in. In one hand he holds a red marker and in the other a folded up piece of paper. He closes the gap between them and wordlessly hands Kurt the paper.

Scribbled across the front fold, in red ink, it says “I haven’t finished this yet, but I want you to read it. I’m so sorry. I’ll get in touch soon. -Blaine” It’s heavy in Kurt’s hand, this is no short, one-page note.

Blaine smiles and leaves the room. Kurt wants to yell at his back, “What do you mean by soon, Blaine!?” Kurt decides on the spot that he’ll give Blaine 24 hours to get in touch and then he’s taking the matter in his own hands. (Kurt’s really impressed when he hears from Blaine in less than 5.)

Kurt weighs the folded pages in his hand for a moment, realizing it could contain everything he wants and needs to know. He checks his watch and shoots Rachel a text saying that he won’t be able to meet her for lunch.

There is nowhere else he could be possibly need to be at this moment, so he unfolds the letter.


	17. Chapter 16

  
Kurt-  


I am not a talker. I am not a chatter, a bull thrower or a conversation starter. I tend to sit back and watch and listen, taking things in, but never really participating, never fully letting myself join in the fun. Mostly because I feel like I don’t know how. 

I have almost no idea how to say this, except just to say it. (Or write it, technically.) I have a stutter, a fairly profound stutter.  It’s really weird to have to tell someone that, because it’s so apparent the moment I open my mouth. And I’ve spent so much time this summer trying to figure out a way to just … tell you.  Ignoring or forgetting that the easiest way to say something difficult is to just say it and get it over with. I put aside my fears to come out to my parents, I found the nerve to tell you about my shyness and going to therapy, but I couldn’t seem to draw up the courage to tell you about my stutter.

Here’s the thing though, the wonder of it all, when you sent me that first email you took my stumbling blocks out of the equation. My voice, my physical voice, has a tendency to let me down, right when I need it the most. And I quickly found I was almost, for lack of a better word, addicted to not just being the kid with a stutter. Because with you, this summer, I could be myself. I loved how I felt talking to you and not worrying about how I sounded. It was just amazing to be myself with you, for you.

This isn’t to say that there aren’t other places in my life where I get to be myself. Having a friend like Matt helps, playing music helps, running miles and miles helps. But you changed my life quickly and deftly in several ways, just by sending an email. First you told me that you wouldn’t have had to courage to do what I did, which made me feel brave. You sought me out, which made me feel wanted. And you called me level-headed, something I never get to be when I’m panicking about my speech.

You changed me.

You made my world better.

Even if it had stopped right there, had our friendship never gotten past those initial emails, I would have been a happier person, a little bit better off because of your brief sojourn into my world. You gave me something that no one would ever be able to take from me- confidence. I don’t think I’d ever felt confident the way I did after that first set of emails. I felt like I was ready to take on the world, or if not the whole world, at least an online friendship with a guy from my Contemporary American Lit class.

I never had a lot of friends, I still don’t. I don’t really know how to have friends, while I’m worrying about what to say. I’m getting better at it, I’m less anxious about interacting with people in general, but I’m still never quite comfortable socializing. (This is something that Paula and I discussed a lot this summer, hence my acute introspection on the topic.) In those situations where I have to talk to people, I never feel like everything is good. I usually just feel like things are various shades of passable. The situation is okay, or do-able, or adequate, but rarely good, never great. But talking to you, becoming friends with you, made me feel great. For the first time in my life I felt like I was interacting with someone and making a friend without them having preconceived notions about me.

I know that a lot of people assume I’m stupid from the moment I start talking. I watch them, how they can’t look at me when I stutter, and I hear them speak to me extra slowly. I know they laugh at me sometimes, and I know that has to do with their own inability to deal with uncomfortable situations. But that doesn’t make things easier for me. Sometimes I get frustrated, but mostly I just feel so embarrassed. Usually I just walk away. I wonder if I’d have more friends if I didn’t walk away from so many people. I didn’t have to walk away from you, because my stutter didn’t matter. 

I found myself revealing things to you that I don’t easily reveal. I found myself desperate for you to know things about me. The problem was, I didn’t know how to tell you about my stutter and the longer I waited the more awkward I felt about it. The more awkward I knew it would be when I finally did tell you.

When I found out you were gay, a little scrap of hope grew in my heart. Every time we talked, that hope would grow a little brighter, a little bigger, a little more sure of itself. Just the fact that you were interested enough in me to im or email almost every night was mind-boggling. The idea that a person, a guy, might be attracted to ME was so foreign. I was so worried about you seeing my flaws, about you seeing me and learning the truth. 

Every time you asked me to Skype or meet in real life, I would panic briefly and then feel horribly guilty for putting you off. I wanted to see you, speak to you, but my fear was bigger than my desire to meet you. Don’t take that personally. It’s just the kind of lame-o I am.

I spent and still spend, too much of my life being afraid. I live too much of my life inside of my head, worrying over the details instead of experiencing what’s in front of me. But it’s like with each email, and each i.m. you made me inch a little farther out. You made me want to be someone else. You made me want to be the person who wrote you all those emails this summer. And I’m going to try. But I knew, before I could pursue anything with you, you needed to know more about “real life Blaine,” because he’s a much different guy than “online Blaine.” You might not like him as much.

I’m so different in person than how I portrayed myself to you this summer. And I know I mentioned that to you then, but I knew there was no way for you to understand fully, having never met me. The more I want to talk, the harder it is for me to speak. Some days, I’d rather just not talk at all, because it’s easier. And there are other times, most of the time, where even when I do speak, it’s not what I want to say. Every sentence is a pale and washed out rendering of what I really want to say, but those are the words that flowed out, because the words that I needed weren’t there. Or they started with b’s. I can’t say b-words without stuttering. It’s so embarrassing, particularly considering that my name starts with a b.

I’ve wanted to tell you a lot of stuff during the past few months that I couldn’t because it had to do with my stutter. I also didn’t want you to feel bad for me. It was like I wanted you know that I had a panic attack trying to say my name during a coffee order, but I didn’t want you know how I pathetic I was. I wanted to vent to you about one of the other camp counselors making fun of my stutter behind my back (unfortunately, though, not out of my earshot), but I didn’t want you to pity me.

It’s so hard wanting to get to know someone when you’re hiding an element of yourself that normally everyone just sees. And it’s even harder when you’re trying to hide all the sad and bad things that happen in your life. But this is my life and I want you to be part of it Kurt. Hiding it from you isn’t going to make life easier. Sharing it with you makes me feel better, downright wonderful most of the time.

As for what happened at the end of the summer...

When I came out to my parents, it was a really bizarre situation. They took it better than I ever could have hoped, but I was still anxious. Now that I was going to be back in the city and my parents hadn’t disowned me (or thrown me to the lions) I could pretty much go about my life as I saw fit. And that was bewildering.

What I really wanted, when the dust settled, was to call you- not email you, or i.m. you or text you. I wanted to call you, to talk to you. That’s not something I’d ever wanted before. The phone is my arch-nemesis. I avoid it like the plague and yet I found myself picking up my phone everyday, literally 10, 20, 30 times and I would scroll to your number. I got so close, so many times. But I knew I couldn’t call you. 

You were the only person I wanted to talk to, but I don’t actually know how to talk. Obviously I know how to physically speak, but I don’t know how to talk in that way that people take for granted. To just say things and not be terrified, to have people listen and not just feel like they’re going to laugh at me when I mess up. To take that step with you, while I was feeling so vulnerable, it was more than impossible. The idea was painful to the point where I just had to walk away. As usual, I found myself walking away from a potential friendship.

But I told myself that I had good reason to walk away this time and I promised myself that I would try to talk to you eventually. It’s just that the first time you heard my voice, I didn’t want you to be caught unaware by my stutter. I know, I know, it’s not my problem to make sure that you’re comfortable with how I speak. It’s all ass backward logic. But I couldn’t help it. I would be nervous enough, I didn’t need the element of surprise.

So, I started writing you this letter. I guess I imagine that when I finally get to meet you, but before I actually have to speak, I’ll hand you this. You’ll read it, I suppose while I stand there, lurking awkwardly. No, that sounds wrong. I’ll work on that part of the plan. Maybe I’ll hand it to you and run away. And hide. And cry for a little while, just knowing that you’re reading this horribly embarrassing, painfully earnest and ridiculously long missive. I hope I haven’t overwhelmed you too much.

I guess what I’m getting at, circuitously, is that I am so sorry Kurt. I’m extremely sorry for not being fully honest with you. I’m even sorrier for being such an assclown lately. I can’t promise that it won’t happen again. I’ve been told that I need to get over myself. But I want to try to be better for you. You make me want to be more than I am. I hope you still might like me after reading all this. I hope you can be patient with me.

I’m terrified of what happens next. I’m terrified of nothing happening. No matter what, I’m so glad I met you though. Because you made me feel brave and wanted and levelheaded. I’ve never been any of that before.

I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I hope you at least consider it. I can and will make this up to you. I might need a little time, but 

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

But what, Blaine? BUT WHAT??? How can he just leave me hanging like that? When he said the letter wasn’t finished I didn’t expect it to end mid-sentence.

Cheese. On. A. Cracker.


	18. Chapter 17

 

  
A moment of Kurt (continued)

And of course he deserves my forgiveness. He hasn’t actually done anything wrong. Do I wish he had handled things differently? Sure. But it seems like his intention was never to hurt me and his actions all came out of a need for self preservation and a really valid mistrust of the world.

Also, who is this shithead camp counselor that made fun of his stutter? I am going to take a crash course in intimidation and jiu-jitsu and go kick some ass. Do not mess with my Blaine.

Knowing that he’s still somewhere in this building, going to class as if this is some kind of normal day, boggles my mind. This isn’t normal. This day is so far from normal, they no longer even live in the same universe. Normal and this day are aliens from separate galaxies.

I think I’m losing my mind.

\-----------  
1:56 pm  
Kurt: Are you home?

2:02 pm  
Rachel: No, picking up food since you ditched my ass for no apparent reason

2:04 pm  
Kurt: Any chance you can postpone your anger and meet me at the apartment with a cheeseburger?  
Kurt: I just met Blaine. Unexpectedly.  
Kurt: That’s why I bailed on you.

2:07 pm  
Rachel: double uuuuu  
Rachel: teeee  
Rachel: EFFFFFF????  
Rachel: WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT BEFORE!?!?!

2:10 pm  
Kurt: I have no idea. but I really, really, really, REALLY need to talk

2:11 pm  
Rachel: I will bring you a cheeseburger, but I stand firm on the fact that you seriously buried the lead by not mentioning Blaine in your original blow off text.

2:12 pm  
Kurt: Um ps. He’s also the silent stranger.

2:13 pm  
Rachel: OMG. WHAT IS LIFE?!  
Rachel: you never suspected it might be the same guy?!?

2:14 pm  
Kurt: I don’t know! stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life!  
Kurt: It was all too much coincidence.

2:15 pm  
Rachel: If by “coincidence” you mean fate!

2:17 pm  
Kurt: Cheeseburger. Home. Now. PLEASSSSEEE.

2:18 pm  
Rachel: It’s kismet Kurt!!!  
Rachel: And he’s not fugly!!

2:20 pm  
Kurt: He is definitely NOT fugly.

\-----------

1:38 pm  
Blaine: We have a situation here.  
Blaine: This is not a drill.  
Blaine: KURT IS THE FACE.  
Blaine: THE FACE IS KURT.

1:53 pm  
Matt: Nooooooooo.  
Matt: SAY WHAT??  
Matt: That doesn’t happen in real life!

1:55 pm  
Blaine: Except for the fact that it just did!  
Blaine: And I gave him the letter

1:56 pm  
Matt: nooooooooooooooooo.  
Matt: TOO MUCH INFORMATION  
Matt: you need to come up with a better song for open mic night.

1:59 pm  
Blaine: Thank you for your unwavering support.  
Blaine: I’ll meet you at the room after this class, the prof is giving me dirty looks.  
Blaine: It’s like come on lady! don’t you know I’m having a crisis!?!? damn.  
Blaine: world. crumbling. at. edges.

3:04 pm  
Matt: I’m picking up some chicken  
Matt: I’ll be home soon

3:05 pm  
Blaine: Yes chicken. Need chicken to fortify my insanity  
Blaine: THIS IS RIDICULOUS.  
Blaine: HOW DID THIS HAPPEN???

3:07 pm  
Matt: Are you going to yell when I get to the room?  
Matt: I hope you yell Blaine  
Matt: Please yell?  
Matt: I’ll get you three different kinds of chicken if you promise to yell  
Matt: BBQ, rotisserie and nuggets

3:08 pm  
Blaine: I’m practicing yelling  
Blaine: kerry just poked her head into our room and asked if I was ok  
Blaine: and I answered NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

\-----------

3:10 pm  
Matt: True or false: blaine is currently yelling.

3:14 pm  
Kerry: True!  
Kerry: HE IS.  
Kerry: He yelled at me!  
Kerry: and like... growled?  
Kerry: is he ok?

3:16 pm  
Matt: YESSSSSSSS FIST PUMP  
Matt: And yes, he’ll be fine

~~~~~

A moment of Matt

Matt tries to be the best friend he can for Blaine at all times. He tries to be careful about when to push him and when to leave him be, when to be kind and when to be blunt. He’s learned a lot over the past year about Blaine, and what’s interesting is that Blaine responds best to Matt’s bluntness. The more upfront and straightforward Matt is to Blaine, the more accepting Blaine seems to be of it. Matt was so worried about hurting Blaine’s feelings for so long, he didn’t realize that oftentimes what Blaine really needs is a kick in the ass.

But this, with Kurt/The Face? This might be like the biggest kick in the ass ever. And he’s really not sure how Blaine is going to deal.

Matt worries during his walk back to the room. Blaine keeps everything wrapped up so tight inside himself that what happened today could make him explode. And in some ways, Matt hopes he really is exploding. Sometimes it’s time to explode.

He finds Blaine face first into his pillow, as spread eagled as one can possibly be on an extra long twin bed.

“BLAAAAAAAAIINNEEE,” Matt calls as he steps fully into the room.

Blaine flips himself on the bed, throws his arms over his head and lets out this seriously crazy loud “ARRRRRGGGGGHHHH.” (Matt’s not sure he’s ever actually heard anyone “argh” before outside of cartoons, but that’s what Blaine just did.)

“Here. Have all of the chicken.” Matt puts his chicken haul on Blaine’s desk and the boys sit down to come up with a new plan for Blaine to woo Kurt. And to eat a lot of chicken.

Within an hour they have the perfect song picked out. 

~~~~~

5:02 pm  
Blaine: Can you meet me at open mic night on Friday?

5:03 pm  
Kurt: Of course.

5:06 pm  
Kurt: Thank you for the letter.

5:07 pm  
Blaine: Insert blushing font

~~~~~

Kurt takes his time getting ready Friday night. He wants to look good. He knows he usually looks good, but he wants to be special, for Blaine. And special for Blaine might be a bit more toned down than his usual good. A little more casual. He observes himself in the mirror and is surprised to realize he’s nervous. He’s nervous for himself, but also for Blaine. He has no idea what’s about to happen, but he’s anxious to find out.  

Before he leaves, Kurt takes a few minutes to Google stuttering. He feels like there’s something he should know, to make Blaine more relaxed. Most of the advice he reads (Maintain eye contact. Don’t finish sentences.) seems like basic common courtesy. But somehow he feels better and just a little less edgy about making Blaine uncomfortable.

When Kurt walks through the door of the coffee shop, his eyes land on Blaine, who’s already playing a set with Matt. He’s surprised. He assumed Blaine wanted to meet to talk, not to play at open mic night. But there will be time to talk when he’s done, Kurt supposes. Kurt waves when Blaine notices him and Blaine smiles and nods.

He goes to the counter and orders a coffee from Rachel. She smiles and raises an eyebrow at him. “Now that I know more about him, I find him sort of... dazzling,” she says to Kurt as she hands him the large latte.

“He’s mine!” Kurt says. Though, he isn’t really, not yet.

“You got something in the mail today. I think it’s about next semester,” Rachel whispers.

“Oh,” Kurt sighs. He’s really got some thinking to do. Rachel gives him a knowing look, but then continues on.

“I know you have other things on your mind right now, but remind me later I have something to talk to you about,” Rachel says.

“As long as it’s not a confession about what happened with Finn over Labor Day weekend, I will be happy to listen,” Kurt says dryly.

“Actually. It’s about Puck,” Rachel answers with a smirk.

Kurt’s surprised and not surprised at the same time. He tips his cup to her and says they will definitely have much to discuss later. He finds a small table and plops down, waiting for Blaine to finish with Matt.

The boys are in the middle of one of their usual numbers. Blaine is looking particularly adorable this evening. Curls neat, green polo shirt tucked into dark, slim jeans, and these cute little boat shoes. Kurt’s never seen him look so well dressed before. He’s warmed by the idea that they both took the time to choose their clothes. For each other.

Kurt quickly realizes that this is only the second time that he’s ever seen him and known him as Blaine.

That’s Blaine up there, playing the guitar.

Blaine.

Kurt takes that in a for a minute. He observes the boy on stage. Kurt knows, understands, a lot more about Blaine now. Blaine doesn’t have an easy time of it. Blaine doesn’t give himself enough credit. But the most important thing about Blaine is that he’s trying. He puts forth more effort just to move through the day than most people do in a week.

So Kurt takes his time and watches this person, trying to see all of his layers. His shyness, his love of music and kids, his compassion, his steady hands on his guitar strings, his pretty eyes. It’s amazing, and so rare, to know so much about someone on the inside, but only just be getting to know their outside.

When they finish, Matt looks at Blaine and he nods and smiles at him encouragingly. Matt hops off the little stage and Blaine turns to fully face the audience and opens his mouth. Kurt thinks he’s going to start singing, but instead...

~~~~~

A moment of Matt

I have never seen him this nervous.

And I have seen him REALLY nervous.

~~~~~

A moment of Blaine

I’m going to pass out.

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

He looks like he’s going to pass out.

I might pass out.

~~~~~

A moment of Rachel

Why is there so much tension?

What’s wrong with Kurt?

Why is his coloring all weird?

What’s going... ohhhhhh.

~~~~~

He says, slowly:  “Hi. I-I’m B-Blaine. This sah-song is fffffor Kurt. If he... If he wah-wants it.”

This is the first day of my life  
I swear I was born right in the doorway

Blaine continues singing. Unable to look anywhere but his fingers. And then he decides that’s stupid. He wants Kurt to know he’s sorry and he needs him to believe it. He needs to look Kurt in the eye.

His gaze finds Kurt and Blaine smiles shyly as he sings the next lyrics.

Yours is the first face that I saw  
I think I was blind before I met you

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

This is amazing.

He is amazing.

~~~~

That these things take forever  
I especially am slow

~~~~

A moment of Blaine

I am slow, Kurt.

I am so slow.

Please.

Please forgive me.

~~~~~

And you said “this is the first day of my life  
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you”

~~~~~

A moment of Kurt

I’m so glad I didn’t die before I met you.

Everything is going to be fine.

~~~~~

Besides maybe this time is different  
I mean I really think you like me

~~~~~

A moment of Blaine

Please Kurt. Please like me.

~~~~~

As Blaine finishes he lowers his eyes again and thanks the assembled group, who give him a hearty round of applause. He smiles, but he can’t quite manage to lift his head yet. He’s just breathing. He counts to five. That makes him feel a little better, so he counts to ten this time. He finally lifts his face and searches for Kurt again. He’s surprised to find Kurt is standing right by the stage already.

He puts down his guitar,  hops off the stage and stands in front of Kurt.

Blaine smiles and shrugs. He hopes the shrug conveys “Can we try again?”

Kurt smiles and tosses off a mock salute. Blaine interprets it as “Of course.”

Blaine blushes, because that’s what Blaine does.

“I, uh, I, I, I’m ssssorry,” Blaine mumbles, unable to hold Kurt’s gaze any longer. “Did, did, did I do ok?”

Kurt looks at Blaine. He really looks at him- his rosy cheeks, his sparkling eyes, the little tilt of his head that conveys so much sincerity Kurt almost can’t handle it.

“You were incredible,” Kurt says, still a little breathless about the boy standing in front of him. Kurt is well aware of how hard speaking in front of the crowd must have been for Blaine, how hard this moment must be for him.

Blaine shakes his head in disbelief and says, “Dah-does that mmmmean you ffffforgive me?” Blaine is just trying to breathe, as usual, and trying not to be overwhelmed by the nearness of this person that he has so built up in his mind. He’s already sort of run out of words though.

“I definitely forgive you,” Kurt pauses, not wanting to embarrass Blaine, but also wanting him to know how touched he was by the letter and the song. “I loved what you wrote to me Blaine. It was very brave, to say all of that. I understand, I think, why you were so worried, but you don’t have to be. And that song, Blaine, that song was perfect.” 

Kurt watches Blaine take in those words, watches as he blinks and his face tenses up and his lips twitch in a way that Kurt is pretty sure means Blaine has something to say, so Kurt waits. While he waits, he decides to take Blaine’s hand. Because maybe Kurt can show Blaine things are ok, instead of just telling him.

Blaine is horribly blocked. All he wants is to say is “Thank you,” but no words are coming out. He’s blinking wildly and his tongue keeps hitting his teeth trying to hit the “th.” But nothing’s coming out. Blaine’s palm is clammy, he doesn’t want Kurt to feel how sweaty it is. No one has ever touched him before while he blocks, not like this. Not when he’s this bad.

Why is this so difficult? Why can’t he just be ok? Kurt said everything is ok. Blaine knows he shouldn’t be so scared. He tries to swallow down the block and to focus and to really believe everything Kurt just said. He finally lets himself squeeze Kurt’s hand. Kurt intertwines their fingers then and Blaine’s breath hitches, helping the block break up a bit.

“Th-th-thank you,” Blaine says, finally. He looks at their hands together and then he looks up at Kurt, knowing he still needs to say more, but having no idea where to begin.

“Are you hungry?” Kurt asks. “Maybe we could go somewhere and talk? Somewhere away from those two?” Kurt tips his chin towards the counter where Matt and Rachel are currently leaning, watching Blaine and Kurt interact with dopey grins on their faces.

“I cc-could eat. And, and, and tah-talk.”

Blaine hopes.


	19. Chapter 18

 

  
Kurt wonders if he should be doing something differently. As they were leaving the coffee shop, Blaine seemed to close himself off. He withdrew his hand from Kurt and shoved both of his deep into his pockets. Kurt tries to make small talk on their way to find someplace to eat, but Blaine just smiles and nods and chuckles here and there. Luckily they find a mostly empty diner a few blocks away and Kurt doesn’t have to keep up the awkward, one-sided small talk.

When they’re seated, again Kurt tries to engage Blaine, talking a little bit about the seminar he’s taking this semester, the lack of intelligence in it. Blaine smiles and nods, but still isn’t saying anything. The waitress comes to take their order and Kurt gets a cheeseburger. Blaine speaks for the first time in what seems like hours, even though it’s probably only been about 20 minutes. He looks at the waitress and then at Kurt and then back down at the table and simply says, “Um... sssssame.” They sit in silence for another minute after that and Kurt can’t really take it anymore.

“Blaine, do you want to be here? You don’t have to be here. Don’t feel like I’m making you stay. I just thought maybe we could talk, but you don’t have to be here. You don’t...” Kurt trails off, not knowing what to say really.

Blaine flicks his eyes to Kurt and then trains them on the corner of the paper placemat that he’s been folding and unfolding. He takes a breath and gestures towards his mouth, “Not rah-rah-rah-really wwwwwworking rrrr- rrrr- rah-right now.” And he smiles, ruefully, finally just ripping the corner off of the placemat, in what Kurt can see is clearly a moment of frustration.

Kurt nods. Blaine thinks about saying more, struggling to find some words that might actually be useful, that might actually tell Kurt something, that might actually make it out of his mouth. He really does want to be here, but apparently his voice has other plans.

Kurt rifles through his bag and comes up with a pen and a notebook. He scribbles a quick sentence.

**Would this be better?**

_You don’t have to do this._

**Maybe it’ll be easier for both of us.**

_This is humiliating._

**It’s ok. I really don’t mind. I’m just worried about something.**

_You’re worried? About what?_

**I’m worried that you don’t trust me enough. To talk to me, to speak. Like you think that I’m going to laugh or whatever, like other people do. I already know a lot about you and I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re probably one of the most intelligent and talented people I’ve ever met.**

_Seriously??!! I don’t even know what to say/write. I’m not worried about that, this is just me having trouble talking. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be ok. But thanks. For the compliments. cough-LIES-cough_

**Ok, relieved, but I’m not lying. So... what’s up?**

_All I keep thinking about is earlier when you asked if we could go somewhere to talk, I wanted to say so many things to you. I said barely a tiny percentage of what I was thinking._

**Well now I’m desperately curious. Care to share what you wanted you to say?**

_What I wanted to say: “Oh, man, I am STARVING. I haven’t eaten all day, I was too nervous. I have so much I want to tell you about!  Like about what happened with my dad and how excited I am to finally, actually, really meet you and how hard I worked on that song. I’m so embarrassed about the letter, but I’m really glad you liked it. It wasn’t really brave though, brave would have been telling you everything sooner. I should have told you the truth a hundred years ago and I can’t believe you still even want to hang out with me. I can’t believe you forgive me.”  (That’s not even all of it. There’s more, but I think you get the gist.)_

_What I actually said: “I could eat. And talk.”_

_And apparently I lied about the second part._

“Wow,” Kurt says out loud.

“I know! I, I, I, I, have a lot to ssssssssay. Bah-bah-bah-but, st-st-stuck.” Blaine says with a shake of his head, eyes bright and finally engaged.

Their food gets served then and they stop talking for a moment. But Kurt starts scribbling again as soon as their waitress walks away.

**Is there anything I can do? To help? To make it easier?**

_No way! You’re great. I just … can’t make my mouth move right now. I mean, I’m nervous about stuttering or screwing up and saying dumb or dorky stuff, but mostly I’m having some trouble like physically speaking. I’m really embarrassed and this is sort of what happens when I … feel too much. Like any time I’m overly emotional. Talking is useless. I’m also really happy, but I hope that’s not my problem. It would be awful if “too happy = inability to speak.” I’m not usually this bad. I guess that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Usually I can string sentences together._

**That would be a downright shame if “too happy = inability to speak.” I just wish I could help you out somehow. I was really worried about you Blaine. Like really worried. When you didn’t get back to me, I thought something bad happened. I don’t know what, but just … bad. But I get it, why you were, and maybe are, hesitant, you didn’t/don’t have to be though. I can be a nice person.**

_I’m sorry I made you worry, I wasn’t really thinking about how you were feeling. (I’m such an asshole like that!!) And haven’t we been over this? Of course you’re nice, you’re downright ineffable. So great, I can’t even talk about you. Or to you._

**Blaine, it’s fine. You’re winsome remember?**

_Yeah. Right. In my dreams maybe. You shouldn’t have to constantly reassure me. I’m not really worth it. I’m so sorry that I’m acting like this. I should be able to function as a human being. I just hate that I’m like this. Now I feel stupid and guilty and even more embarrassed for writing out my pity party._

**Please don’t. Please don’t hate yourself, or anything about yourself. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t worth it. Have you noticed Crazy Hair at the next table? She keeps giving us the stink eye.**

_Are you trying to diffuse my frustration/shyness/mortal embarrassment by snarking on a stranger? Cause that works for me. I happen to have a soft spot for snark. (I’m sorry. For being such a weirdo. And I’m sorry that I’m sorry.)_

**You saw right through my plan. And seriously, it’s like “honey, get a deep conditioner and a new stylist.” But why is she looking at us like that?!?!? (END YOUR VICIOUS CYCLE OF APOLOGY.)**

_I think that’s just how she looks. Either that or she’s never seen two guys in a diner passing a notebook back and forth like they’re in fucking 6th grade study hall. Get a good look sweetheart!!!_

**She saw us staring.**

_Be cool Kurt. Don’t look directly at her._

**Oh, bugger off Crazy Hair.**

_Abrupt subject change._

_I have to admit, now that I know who you are, I’m kind of surprised that you didn’t know who I was after I sent you that version of the tuna salad song. Unless, you just didn’t remember me/it._

**It was familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And I don’t think I could wrap my head around the guy on the internet being the guy from the coffee shop.**

_Yeah. I was definitely having the same issues._

**There were a ton of moments all summer that I honestly thought it might be you. (I thought of you as The Silent Stranger.) But I just thought that would be far too great a coincidence.**

_I’m surprised you remembered me. (I called you The Face.)_

**Of course, you make an impression. (The face? seriously?)**

_I didn’t think you noticed me. I didn’t even talk to you. (I like your face.)_

**Talking isn’t always the most important thing. For starters, has anyone ever told you that you have a very nice ass? (I like your ass.)**

_No actually. No one has ever told me that before._

**You do.**

_Thanks. It’s probably all the running?_

**And when you play music, you’re captivating. Also, I don’t think anyone had ever saluted me before. So, I didn’t just like you for your ass.**

_Where’s that blushing font when I need it..._

**I fucking love it when you blush.**

_This works in my favor._

**What I still can’t figure out is how Rachel and Matt didn’t put the pieces together for us. They were always flirting.**

_I don’t know, Matt’s a good friend, but he pretty consistently has his head up his ass._

**As does Rachel, now that I think of it.**

_Maybe it was better this way._

**I wish you could have talked to me about other stuff this summer. You were dealing with dumb shit and maybe I could have helped.**

_What like you could have flown to Ohio and beaten up the camp counselor that made fun of me?_

**I would have done that. I plan to learn to some type of very intimidating fighting style and then I’m going to beat that guy up.**

_And I appreciate that. But I think they were my battles to fight this summer. I think I’m a better person for it._

**I wonder though, what might have happened if I had cornered you after you played Pale Blue Eyes, like I wanted to. If stupid Rachel hadn’t dragged me away.**

_I probably would have been totally silent and smiled a lot and shrugged and run away._

**But whyyyyy? I mean, why sing that song right to me and have no intention to talk to me after?**

_I guess I never thought you’d really pay attention to it. Or maybe I even hoped you wouldn’t be there that night. It was as much for me as it was for you. I never really thought about what might happen after. I guess I figured you’d leave and I’d leave and I’d just spend the summer thinking about you and hoping I’d see you again someday._

**Yeah, but what if...**

_Are we playing that game?_

**YES. What if I had decided to not take that class?**

_What if I had decided against posting my levelheaded comment?_

**What if I detested levelheadedness????**

_What if I had thrown up on you in the basement?_

**Ew. Thanks for not.**

_It was one of my options. I was like “Ok, your options are throw up, run away, try to talk.” It really seemed like the best way to get your attention._

**But you already had my attention.**

_To be fair, I didn’t know I had your attention. And it might not have been a well thought out plan, but vomiting on someone is construed as a sign of affection in some cultures._

**Except that it’s not.**

_No. It’s not. I tell you lies._

**I have a question. It’s been KILLING me. What were you going to write at the end of the letter?  You said you would “need time, but...”**

_I have no idea. I rewrote that thing so many times, I’m not even sure what version you got. I mean, they all had the same theme “I stutter, I’m not very cool, please don’t hate me, I’m dumb, you’re smart, I miss you, seriously try not to hate me, I’m sorry.”_

**Yeah that’s pretty much what I got out of it. Also that you’re kind of amazing.**

_I’m scoffing at the mere thought of being amazing. I’m so far from amazing Kurt, I don’t think I could identify it. But thank you. And I guess, at the end of the letter I was just saying I hope we could be friends._

**Would you be interested in being more than friends someday? maybe?**

When Blaine reads that, he actually laughs loudly. The laughter seems to jar something loose in his chest and his jaw and his tongue. The worst of his block is suddenly gone, so he says “Why ww-would you wwwant to get involved with this mah-mah-mess?” And he uses his finger to draw a circle in the air around his face.

“Everyone’s a mess Blaine. Your mess is just harder to hide.”

Blaine smiles at this and thinks that he should start keeping a notebook of Kurt Hummel’s most inspirational quotes. Maybe now is as good a time as any to start. He turns to a new page in the notebook and writes:

1\. I won’t think of them as blocks. I’ll think of them as interludes.  
2\. You were incredible.  
3\. Everyone’s a mess. Your mess is just harder to hide.

“What are you doing?” Kurt asks.

“May-making a lllist of the nnnnice things you ssssay to mah-mah-me.” With that Blaine tears the page out of the notebook and folds it up to keep in his wallet.

The boys have finished eating and Blaine pays the check by beating Kurt’s hand away and giving him a warning look.

“Thank you,” Kurt says, “You really didn’t have to pay.” Blaine just shrugs and smiles.

As they walk out of the diner Kurt says “I’d like to do this again sometime, okay?”

“You ww-wah-want to write notes to mah-mah-me in a dddd-diner for a couple hours again ssssometime?” Blaine jokes.

“It was fun. Didn’t you have fun? Stop laughing at me.” Kurt glances over his shoulder, “I really should have given Crazy Hair a recommendation for better product.”

“May-may-maybe next time.”

As they step onto the street, both boys stop for a second. Blaine takes this moment to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans and then timidly takes Kurt’s hand. At this moment, it’s somehow both the most and the least that Blaine can do.

Kurt smiles at Blaine, gives their hands a swing between them and walks on.

~~~~~

A moment of “Crazy Hair”

What are those two doing over there?

All I hear is the slide of a notebook across the table.

And then giggles.

It’s sort of annoying.

I mean, if you’re on a date, why not talk?

Why are they looking at me like that?

They’re kind of adorable though.

It’s like the can’t stop smiling.

They’re very, very cute.

I hope they kiss.

I don’t think they’re going to kiss.

Must be a first date.

A very weird first date.

Why can’t I find a guy who looks at me like that?

That’s it, Deirdre Marshall, you need a boyfriend.


End file.
